


Hearts of Kyber

by RestlessImaginator



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Heavy Angst, Hurt Jyn, Mission Fic, Mutual Pining, Rescue Missions, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Violence, Whump, hurt Cassian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-06-14 21:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 70,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15397371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RestlessImaginator/pseuds/RestlessImaginator
Summary: What if Jyn and Cassian survived Rogue One? Now on Hoth, they must find ways to survive and navigate the changing tide of the rebellion, as well as the changing tide of their relationship. And it doesn't leave either of them unscathed...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hey, y'all. So I've had this little story in my pocket for a few months now, and I thought RebelCaptain Week being last week was as good an excuse as any to finally get it out there.
> 
> To be completely honest, the story is just my outlet for some shameless angst, whump, and shipping of my favorite rebels. It starts a few months after the end of Rogue One, so yes, this is a slight AU since I protected our two lovely rebels from dying (there are some minor details that I tried to keep canon). However, that means there are a few OCs since only Cassian and Jyn survived the Death Star blast on Scarif in this story. Rated T for violence, swearing, and some minor anatomical language (IV's later on, so don't stick around if you can't handle language about veins).
> 
> Stay-tuned for whump in literally almost every chapter. Will update regularly.

Jyn loathed the cold. It was something the bit and nipped even if you didn't provoke it. So it was just her shit rotten luck that she ended up freezing her arse off on Hoth with her most recent mission assignment at Echo Base.

She had kind of a love-hate relationship with her new position as sergeant. For one, it had been by the grace of Cassian's smooth-talking that she received her stripes. When they had returned from Scarif, Mon Mothma was ready to honor her end of the bargain and release Jyn back to whatever life on the run she wished to assume—picking an alias like a name out of hat. But Cassian wouldn't hear of it. As far as he was concerned, she, and everyone else who'd aided in the retrieval of the plans, deserved an honorable level-up, even despite having gone rogue. And that's exactly what she got.

Cassian, on the other hand, was offered a position as head operative for a series of missions on some planet Jyn couldn't pronounce. But he'd turned it down in favor of his current ranking as Captain.

Acquisition of her title aside, there was also the manifestation of that title. Smuggling—even when she was a soldier for Saw—was just always something that sounded more enticing than real titles, because now there were expectations and duties. Her only duty, her entire life, had been to herself.

But even still, it felt nice to be needed by something...and someone.

With this newfound responsibility, she was unable to see Cassian as much, even despite being assigned to the same planet after they were moved from Yavin IV. The good Captain had been busy on deployments out onto Hoth to stake out hidden places to anchor transmission dishes. He and his teams were usually flown out to some obscure corner of the ice planet to dig their picks into glaciers looking for pockets of air.

After the stunt they had pulled on Scarif, the Rebels had become less forgiving with insubordination and mutiny. So, naturally, they decided to set up more points of contact all over their base planets to receive transmissions if another fleet was in trouble again.

That way the rebels who rebelled against the rebellion might be rescued and then dealt with, instead of…being left to die.

Jyn swallowed hard. She and Cassian had been the only ones from Rogue One to make it off Scarif once the Death Star had blown it to kingdom come.

Even despite the Death Star being destroyed several weeks back, the Rebel generals still thought it best to punish Jyn and Cassian by setting them to work on remedying the bases in a way that would make what they did impossible. And the destruction of the Death Star was only a small comfort to the guilt that bullied her conscience. Little did they know that Jyn was already pretty damn good at punishing herself.

Every face. Every soul. She had led them to their death, and yet she still stood. Jyn decided she should've died on Scarif. With K2, Bodhi, Baze, Chirrut, with…Force, she didn't even know all of their names!

With a trembling breath, Jyn toggled off the monitor she'd been working on since six in the morning and tipped her head back against her pod in futile effort to stave off whatever headache was trying to encroach on her retinas. While Cassian was off doing active work, Jyn had been assigned to writing new codes for the security systems around Hoth. With her father's engineering genetics, Jyn found she was rather good at programming the rebel systems to firewall them against hacks and infiltrations. But her legs ached to be used. She had always led a life on the run.

Still, she couldn't complain too much. At least she was inside. Jyn shuddered at the thought of being sent out to the swirling land of frost-bite. Even thinking of Cassian out there with only three men made her stomach constrict.

After one sour mission to sector forty-two stranded Cassian and his team out overnight, Jyn had been a little less indulgent with him whenever he was assigned to a new installation site around Hoth. Sometimes, she tried to volunteer for perimeter duty to be the first one to know when he returned, but Rieekan always figured out her motives and had Triko Rhane, her security chief drag her back to her monitor.

Forgoing all formality, Rhane was absolutely terrifying—hair-ram-rod-straight-down-your-neck terrifying. Originally stationed with Outer Rim Oreworks on Lamaredd, he had shoulders the expanded the width of a freighter ship, and knees the size of boulders.

It didn't help that he now was the head sentinel of the weaponry—his favorite being the melee Vibroblade, or as Jyn liked to call it, the glorified talon. Because when he brandished that thing, it really did look like a three-foot claw sharpening his mammoth paws into a blade that was looking more and more like an invitation into the next world. Being dragged back by such a bantha of a man with one of those blades clipped to his waist was almost as terrifying as it felt for Jyn to hear that Cassian's mission had been reported missing in action that one mission a few months ago.

The moment his troop stumbled back through the gates of Echo base, Jyn swore she could've killed him herself for worrying her so much. After spending four nights submerged in a bacta tank to dethaw, Cassian and his troops only had a week of recovery—a week of Jyn, Tavion, General Draven, and a few other privates from their hallway hovering about them like angry maids making sure the troop didn't over work themselves—before they were re-commissioned to a new sector.

Jyn had held onto Cassian a little longer than usual before he left that time. Seeing as how her attempts at stowing away on his next mission were soiled the moment he caught that worried look in her eye, she was forced to settle for his promise to be less reckless.

"Maybe after a bit of Intelligence training," Cassian was a bit smug at his ability to read her so well, "you might be able to paint on a better poker face, hm?"

"Jerk," she rolled her eyes, but her voice betrayed her worry. Cassian had given her a nudge over the shoulder before boarding his vessel out.

She counted the hours, and sometimes the days, to his returns. It was always much easier if he was around.

Nights had been hard for both of them since Scarif. Several times a week, Jyn would be woken up in a cold sweat by a strong pair of arms wrapping around her shaking shoulders and pulling her into a broad chest while her sobs subsided. She would be drenched in sweat and trembling so hard that Cassian would end up holding her firmly against him until she had no more tears left to ruin his shirt.

He would mumble comforting words into her hair, sometimes in his native language, Festian. She never understood what he was saying when he did that, but she almost liked it more. Jyn would cling to him with equal fervor, testing out her lungs.

When she finally convinced herself that she was at Echo Base instead of back on that bloody battlefield, Cassian would slowly unwrap himself from his comrade and shift to the edge of the bed.

It only took one gasp of his name just as he stood up for Jyn to get the captain to come back to her side and stay with her until morning. At first, he would just sit on the side of her bed as if to keep watch. But only several months ago he began laying with her. Jyn would roll back on her bed and scoot against the wall to make room. She would wait until the other edge of the bed depressed with his weight as he settled in next to her before turning her gaze to his.

They never touched. They only held each other's gaze until one of them fell asleep.

When Jyn would wake in the morning, Cassian would usually be gone. And they never mentioned it or acknowledged whatever it was they were doing during operative hours.

This happened every week, at least two to three times while he was on leave from mission duty.

But when Cassian was deployed on one of his missions, Jyn was left to many sleepless nights on her own. She knew she needed sleep—without it, Jyn's immune system made her pay the consequences and she often ended up with a stuffed up nose or searing throat pain and throbbing sinuses. But the alternative was seeing the face of every person she killed on Scarif flash under her lids while she slept, dreaming of their painful deaths.

Jyn pushed away from her desk in the main reception laboratory and stretched her legs. It was only when her stomach churned its emptiness that she realized she hadn't eaten yet.

But on her way to finding sustenance, Jyn caught wind of an exchange that displaced all thoughts of food.

Around the corner from where she stood, General Draven spoke in hushed tones with someone.

"—have been orbiting Hoth at wide range, past the point of our detection, for several hours now."

Jyn skidded to a stop and made herself scarce in the shadows to listen.

"What do you mean, General?" It sounded like the Senator. Jyn had no idea she was even on Hoth. When had she arrived?

"Senator Mothma, we have reason to believe they have been in secret contact with a hidden Empire fleet somewhere on Hoth."

"That's impossible, Draven." It sounded like she was trying to convince herself. "We've been setting up transmissions all over this planet. We would have intercepted loose signals coming too and from our bases."

"That's just it, though, isn't it," he hissed. "One of the men on that mission must be compromised."

Jyn bit the flesh of her cheeks, heart pounding in Mothma's silence, who must have been just as shocked as she was to answer.

"General Draven," she spoke low and dangerously. "Is this why you summoned me here? You realize the severity of the allegations you are making."

"I do not believe them to be allegations, Senator." Draven responded with just as much malice. "One of our satellites picked up a loose signal from the southern border of Hoth's glacier near Echo Station 3-T-8. It was encrypted. I've had a secret commission of men trying to declassify it all night. Who from the rebellion would be trying to hide things from it?" She heard a rustle of fabric. "Someone working for the Empire."

"Why did I not hear about this message as soon as it was received?!"

"If our transmissions are compromised, would you have had me risk the exposure of this knowledge just so you could find out several hours earlier?"

"Have you alerted General Rieekan yet? I do believe he has primary jurisdiction over this base, if I'm not mistaken." The last part had been deliberately staccatoed.

Jyn could almost hear General Draven stiffen. "Aye, ma'am. He does. But I have kept this confidential until I could notify someone I knew to be uncompromised."

The south side of the glacier. Jyn cursed internally. That was where Cassian's mission was. But who in God's name was betraying the Rebel Alliance?

She heard Mothma sigh. "We'll have to close the gates and seal every entrance until we know who the mutineer is. No one in or out of Echo until this is sorted."

"And deployed mission Alpha-G74, ma'am?"

Alpha-G74—Cassian.

"If a-G74 is believed to be compromised, I'm afraid there is nothing we can do. Unless the man himself steps forward, re-entry to the base for that mission is denied."

Jyn's heart spiked. Night was drawing near. And there would be no retrieval by the base. Exposure to the elements over night was as good as a notarized death sentence.

"We'll bolster the deflector shield and load the v-150 ion cannons in the event of an attack. But there is to be no retrieval."

'Like hell,' Jyn thought fiercely.

She quickly disappeared down the far corridor toward the hangar just as Draven and Mothma were making their way toward Echo's headquarters.

Her legs were milling at a steady rate for several minutes as she made her way to the decommissioned fighter jets they kept under lax security. That was, until the alarm system began to blare throughout the base. Red light bled over the corridors, and fire doors and barricades all began to slowly rotate on grumpy hinges as they creak closed.

Shit!

She pushed herself to a sprint that she knew she would not be able to maintain and launched herself under the last door just before it could sever her leg.

Hangar seventeen.

Echo hadn't seen organized combat in the few months of its operation, but it meant the old jets they'd stationed here just in case had gathered ice in their jams and fallen out of use. They were unreliable and potentially had been stripped of their batteries and engines to serve as parts for the other cargo ships being used. But it was Jyn's only hope of leaving the base to find Cassian and his team.

Not to mention, the frigid temperatures of the planet made speeders and X-Wings the only viable form of travel. So the chances of her larger ship stalling out was more a life-gamble than anything else. But if there was a hidden fleet out there, then by hell, they would need fire power.

Jyn steeled herself as she lithely swung into the least dilapidated ship. She'd be damned if she let another member of Rogue One die again on her watch. Not if she could help it.

Because if Cassian died, she'd finally have no more reason not to follow the rest of Rogue One.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the interest in the story!! Here is the next installment! Kind of short, but preludes some great angst on the way so stay tuned ;) 
> 
> Plus, we could all use some more bad ass Jyn if you ask me.

Nothing scared Jyn more than the dying light of Hoth. Even if it was beautiful the way it sparkled orange over the snow like pulverized diamonds—it meant sub-zero temperatures and torturous winds that were both strong and cold enough to strip a man of his sanity.

Jyn watched her white breath puff from her lips warily as she navigated the ship over the glacier. A strong headwind was giving her quite a run for her money with keeping the thrusters on the right coordinates. And she tried to forget how much altitude she sacrificed to stay out of the clouds that were rolling in from the North.

Thinking of her cold night of searching ahead of her, Jyn almost chided herself for believing stealing the jet to be the hardest part. In the wake of what was to come, it seemed rather easy now. All she’d had to do was jump-start the engine after wiring a battery from one of the other ships to keep the condensers from overflowing and flooding. Once the cylinders were pumping, powering up the rest of the ship was clockwork.

However, she’d find herself met with a very angry General when she returned because her escape route from the base was not exactly what you would call discreet. Jyn may or may not have had to blast a hole in the far wall of the hangar to ensure she could fly out. 

In her defense, if they hadn’t decided to close every single bloody gate, then there would have been no need for such a dramatic escape route. But considering her options were limited, Jyn knew she would’ve done it again in a heartbeat.

Just then her pilfered ship began alarming at her. Some of the dials on the dashboard began to blink. She jammed her thumb into them hoping that would alleviate whatever it was they were demanding. It was most likely the battery life. No doubt the cold was draining it more quickly than usual. With any luck, they would have enough juice to fly them back to base.

To be blunt, Jyn actually had no idea how to fly a decommissioned fighter ship. Sure, she had watched Cassian as he navigated Rogue One all those months ago, but she had been more watching him rather than what he was doing. She cursed herself for getting so distracted. 

This ship was mission a-G74’s way out—it was their lifeline. And it very well was hers too. She needed to make sure it made it to them in one piece. After that, she had confidence that Cassian would know better than she how to navigate back to base…assuming back to base was where they were going.

“No, no, no!” She coaxed the ship a little higher as a sheering wind knocked several degrees off the axis of the ship’s flight projection. She was listing dangerously far and needed to re-center the gravity so the landing mechanisms weren’t compounded.

Finally, after sweating for several hours over the controls (despite still being quite numb in the fingers), the south lip of the glacier tipped into view in the windshield, and the top of Echo Station 3-T-8 poked out from the snowdrifts. 

Jyn slowly began to level the thruster even with the terrain and brought the ship down toward the snow. Unsure of how to really safely land the ship, Jyn decided she would need to just set the ship down over a snow drift and hope it tampered the rocky landing she knew she was in for.

And boy was it a rocky landing. By the time the ship hissed to a stop, steaming in the snow, Jyn couldn’t tell if she had bitten her tongue in her anxiety, or if that had gone numb from the cold too.

She quickly made to wipe her hands against her parka—they had taken to sweating in the landing, but if she was to venture outside, any wetness would need to be dried immediately lest she want a frozen layer preserving her inner tissues whilst killing the outer to a nice shade of black. No doubt she’d lose her fingers. And she decided she’d rather keep them.

Since she landed, the light had fully disappeared on Hoth. Only a ruddy glow cast any promise of warmth against the sealed firmament that was beginning to birth stars.

Rubbing her hands together, Jyn snatched up the radio and tuned in to a-G74’s channel. She could only pray that the right person would pick up the other end. If it was the traitor who knew that the Rebels had found him out, she might never find Cassian.

Jyn inhaled deeply before clamping down over the transmission button.

“Alpha-G74,” her voice rasped from the cold. “This is Echo ship F-0490, what is your status?”

She released the button only to be met with static. Four minutes passed before she tried again, jamming the button a little more desperately this time.

“Alpha-G74,” her voice grew in conviction. “Echo ship F-0490 requests coordinates and a status update for retrieval.”

Static.

Jyn shrugged her parka tighter around her and was preparing to stand up when a gargle sounded from the radio. 

“—yn?” More static.

Jyn almost knocked into the dashboard when she lunged for the receiver.

“Cassian!” she spoke urgently into the radio. “Cassian, is that you?! Where are you! I’ve come to retrieve a-Seventy-Four!”

“—o back, Jy—“ he kept breaking up, but his accent gave him away. She’d found them. “—mpromised by the— Leave without—!” It almost sounded like he was whispering.

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He was asking her to leave! Jyn never thought Cassian could be so thick. She would leave no one, except the traitor who got the mission into this mess in the first place if she were able.

“Cassian,” she spat into the radio, “I am not leaving this glacier until you and your men are on this ship, do you hear me?”

Static. 

Static.

“Cassian!” she begged.

Shit. 

Jyn threw the radio and pulled on her gloves, wrapping her shawl around her nose and chin so only her eyes and bridge of her nose poked out. Even that was too much skin for Jyn’s liking. 

Just before she opened the back hatch, Jyn snatched the blaster she’d stolen from the weapon’s hold and shoved under the belt of her coat. She considered placing it a layer deeper, but decided that it might not be easy enough to activate that far under. 

Plus, that would mean she would need to unzip her parka to get to it. And there was no telling how much exposure her body could handle before it shut down on her. 

She would just have to pray that she could find Cassian and his mission before she…froze.

Christ, here she was, about to go galavanting in the very weather she was glad to never have to work in to find a man who didn’t want to be found.

Force help her.

Jyn slammed her hand against the release button and felt the pressure of the cabin pop as frigid Hoth air gusted into the ship. She cursed again just for good measure before stepping off the ship and into the cold.

Wind tore at her clothes from every direction. She would need to find cover first if she wanted to get her bearings.

Once under a snowy overhand, Jyn took stock of her surroundings. She had done a right solid job of parking the ship directly in a snowdrift. If they were any sort of lucky, Cassian would be able to fly them out of it. Because she wasn’t sure she’d be able to.

Off to her left, a large hole in the glacier was visible, just a few meters from the edge of the abandoned sentry post. Echo Station 3-T-8 had been stripped of its sentries when General Rieekan ordered the extra bodies to report to more needed posts around the North Eastern borders. It was there that the systems Jyn was helping to code algorithmically determined the risk of an Empire attack to be greatest. Unfortunately, that meant no help would come from the station while they were here.

The snow before the cavern was a little thinner as if it had been trodden upon. While it was no sign saying “come this way,” it was certainly her best place to start.

Unhinging her glowrod from her weapons strap, Jyn clapped the palm of her hand over the butt of the rod to catch some light into the wicks. It sparked to life, and even despite the wind, she could imagine the hiss of the electric fuse coughing to stay illuminated in this temperature as she slowly descended the icy slope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update: Reunion chapter! Maybe not in the most of ideal situations, though *shrugs* This is a whump fic after all. Thanks for tuning in!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support in this story!! You guys have been so amazing with your comments and kudos. Without further ado, let's see how our rebels are faring in the glacial caves of Hoth (obvious hint: not very well)
> 
> Happy reading :)

As Jyn skirted along the edge of the cavern, tracing the icy ridges with her glowrod. The deeper she proceeded into the cavern, the less certain she became that a-G74 had passed through here. Either the team was extremely cautious about masking their tracks, or someone had tried to cover up their presence here, because the final alternative was that Cassian’s mission was not actually down here, and that option just seemed too hopeless to consider.

Just then, something her light washed over caught her eye. Jyn hustled over to the area in question, only to find the snow stained a deep crimson. 

Blood.

Reaching down to sample the area, Jyn discovered it was still warm. Fresh. Recent.

They had to be down here. But she was going to have to do her best to ignore what the presence of the blood signified, because entertaining that worry would only distract her. What it did do, though, was galvanize her to move more quickly. Now that she knew they has passed through here, Jyn was more careful in making sure to pass her glowrod over every single cranny and icicle for any more sign of the rest of a-G74. 

After what finally seemed like an hour of searching the frigid cave, Jyn could not only no longer feel her fingers, but also the rest of her hands and everything below her thighs. If she wanted to keep her limbs—hell, if she wanted to live—she was going to have to turn back soon.

Before she could curse Cassian under her breath again, Jyn felt herself stumbling. At first, she thought it was just a result of her lack of sensation in the majority of her lower half. But as she twisted in the snow to gauge her position, she noticed a pair of boots jutting out from under a thin layer of snow. 

Kriff.

Jyn immediately rolled over and began swiping away the snow. Her breath snagged when she noticed the familiar blue of Cassian’s parka. Jyn dug faster.

Finally, the captain dusted into view. He looked largely unharmed, but Jyn wouldn’t know until she woke him up. What scared her most, though, wasn’t the mystery of his injuries, but the pallor of his skin and his lidded eyes. Falling asleep out on Hoth was the quickest way to never wake up again. 

“Cassian!” Jyn lunged forward and took his icy cheeks between her gloved hands. “Cassian, wake up!” Ice crystals studded the ends of his facial hair and eyebrows so he looked beyond hypothermic. Blue in death. Focus, Jyn.

Even after she shook him, he remained unresponsive. Suddenly Jyn was terrified. For some reason, even as she reached to press two fingers to his jugular, she knew what she would find. 

Silence.

No. No.

No thready pulse beat up against her finger pads. And before she knew it, Jyn had shucked his coat open and had centered her weight directly over his heart and shoved. 

“Come on,” she ground out between pumps over where blood should have been circulating. “You don’t” pump, "get to leave me,” pump, "that easily—“ pump. “You bastard!” pump. "I’m not going to make this easy on you, Andor.”

Jyn pinched his nose and cupped his jaw, hinging it open so she could blow life into his lungs. It was not the way she imagined their lips to meet for the first time. But when her lips met hers, a million moments of unlived moments—missed connections—starved contact met her lips in the coldness of his.

“Come on, Cassian!” she chanted, ignoring the break in her voice and the tears beginning to sting her eyes. 

At one point, she was fairly certain she heard his ribs crack. But the noise she cared about most was the low groan that resonated from his chest after several minutes of compressions had gone by. 

Jyn froze, mid pump, her veins ice. 

“Cassian?” she breathed quickly, scooting up towards his head. There was a steady beat of life under her fingertips this time. 

Cassian’s breathing was very shallow. Short puffs were lifting his chest in rapid fire—he was shivering. But he was alive.

“Cassian!” she couldn’t help her cry of relief, hands cupping his cheeks as her forehead fell to his chest in exhaustion. Compressions always required a lot more exertion than she realized. And this hadn’t even been the first time she’d had to administer them. But it had been the first time she’d done them on someone she truly cared for…

“J-J-J-nnn—?” he moaned between heaves. His lids fluttered in a way that could only mean his vision was swimming. The fact that he was capable of recognizing Jyn in this state was promising.

“You’re alright,” she promised, blinking away the fear before he could see it. Jyn was not a crier. But when losing Cassian became so close to reality, Jyn knew less about who she was. “You’re alright.” She repeated more for herself this time. "I’ve come to retrieve you and your mission!”

“Hurts,” he gasped, “to—breathe.” His face contorted in pain.

“Yeah, well,” Jyn shifted, brushing the hair from his eyes, “it sure as hell beats you not breathing at all. So, let’s get you warm so you can use your legs and we’ll bust out of this place."

Cassian clenched his eyes shut in pain and mumbled something that sounded like “No."

She decided to ignore that last bit as she gripped his shoulders and heaved his torso out of the snow. He lulled into her chest, one hand feebly trying to catch himself against Jyn’s arm so he didn’t impact her so heavily. It was futile, but Jyn didn’t mind much.

“By the gods, Cassian, you’re shivering enough for the both of us,” she assessed without much finesse as she rubbed her hands up and down his back in rapid fire. “We have to get you warmed up if we want to walk out of here.”

“Jyn,” he pushed her away and tried to sit up on his own, but she could see the sheen of sweat over his brow as he tried. “N-n-no,” he arrested her hands by grabbing her wrists. “Don’t.”

“Try and stop me,” she glowered at him.

“Jyn,” he pinned her with a dark and slightly unfocused gaze. “Listen to me, you sh-sh-shouldn’t be—here.” His accent was thicker than usual, like he was trying hard not to phase into Festian.

“Try. And stop me.” she growled again, attempting to pull him into her warm chest again to share her body heat.

Cassian resisted, more strongly than she was expecting. “No, I’m s-s-serious,” his voice had gained some strength, and speed as well, she noted duly. He pinned her with a dark gaze and managed to make his voice quit shaking long enough to order, “Get out of here, Jyn. Now.” The only thing he couldn’t abate as well was the fear in his voice. It twinged at something unfamiliar in Jyn’s chest.

When she didn’t move he continued. “Drakkar,” he gasped, “he’s a counterspy m-m-mercenary for the Empire.”

Victor Drakkar—native to Jedha, but joined the rebellion when the war zone took the lives of his father and younger brother, Mikal. Jyn had always liked him—his hair that never hung straight and little dimple that sprouted when he told his vulgar jokes. He was like a big brother to many at the Hoth base. All of a sudden, his memory had been smoked black.

“I-“ she swallowed and tried again. "I know your mission’s been compromised,” she assured him, biting back the disappointment of Drakkar’s betrayal as she gripped his forearms with her usual stubborn conviction. “That’s why I’m here—”

“Jyn, th-this is a—a trap,” he finally blurted. “General Veers i-is on his w-w-way with a fleet of AT-AT’s. They’re g-g-going to t-take—Echo, and b-b-bust this place w-ide op-open.” He was breathless by the time he finished, lips bluer than ever.

That stopped her. She searched both his eyes for testimony to that truth. “If you think that changes anything, you’re a damn fool,” she snapped, only a little sorry for being so harsh with him. 

“Dammit, Jyn!” He startled her. “G-g-get out of hhhere. G-g-get off—Hoth. I’m dead weight t-t-to you!”

“I’m getting you warm, and then I’m getting us out.” Jyn changed tactics. "I need you to fly us out of here,” she rephrased. Perhaps if she gave him some sense of duty, he’d be more compliant to her nursing. 

“Shysa,” Cassian heaved into a fit of coughing. Jyn cursed at him. “Shysa’s been killed.” His words were muffled by Jyn’s coat as she had pulled him close again in a desperate bid to rub heat into his core and hold him steady until his croup passed.

She didn’t respond, but in her mind she mourned for the young cadet who had only recently been minted into the Rebel Alliance—he had still been so young and full of purpose. His boyhood freckles still hadn’t even faded—and now Drakkar had murdered him. If it weren’t so cold, her blood would have been boiling. Any morsel of softness she held for Drakkar hardened in seconds.

She knew Cassian felt responsible for all the men on his team. So she also knew he was probably blaming himself for the young boy’s death. 

“Where’s Jecht?” she wondered aloud about the last man of a-G74 as she continued to generate friction into Cassian’s back, trying to distract him from the loss of Shysa.

“S-S-Sepsom,” Cassian seemed to remember. Jecht Sempson—demoted general. The old Clone Wars veteran had almost been dishonorably discharged for inebriation and reckless endangerment while commanding a commandeered U-Wing several years back. There had been rumors of mutiny as well against his admiral, but Jyn knew how word spread in these parts of the galaxy. 

True, he wasn’t the most honorable rebel, but he hadn’t betrayed them yet, and he was alive. “Sent him—sent him back on the—emergency X-Wing a-at s-s-station for—for help.” Jecht wasn’t the first person Jyn trusted with Cassian’s safety, but he was at least loyal enough to still obey his captain.

“This isn’t working,” Jyn mumbled mostly to herself fearfully as Cassian rattled against her. In desperation, she unwound her arms from his back and instead unzipped her own parka.

“—the hell—are y-y-you doing?” Cassian growled when she slipped out of her outer protective layer. 

Since he couldn’t move very well, this was perfect, because the captain no doubt would have done a lot more than just object to Jyn swinging her warmed parka around his shoulders if he were able. But Cassian could do little else but watch and resist Jyn’s efforts feebly.

“No,” he ground out, finally finding purchase against her wrist and ensnaring it with angry fingers. “Vas a congelarte hasta la muerte."

She batted him away with no problem. “Basic, Cassian,” she reminded him. It was, in fact, the coldest Jyn had ever been, and she tried to keep her own shivering to a minimum so Cassian wouldn’t scold her. But he was far worse off than she was, and she had been warming her parka with her body heat for several hours now. Cassian would make better use of it.

“You are slowly freezing to death,” she reminded him while she worked, not realizing she’d almost echoed him.

“Are you f-f-fucking crazy, Jyn?” His eyes were wide as he took in her exposed figure, but his voice already seemed steadier, his eyes brighter. Jyn wanted to smirk at her handiwork. “N-no. Th-this is too—far. I w-w-won’t allow it. Put your damn c-c-coat back on!"

Jyn’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t need your bloody permission—so looks like you’re out of a choice. You’re the crazy one if you think I would let you freeze if I could help it. Now shut the hell up and come here.” 

She seized the front of his jacket and shoved her arms between his parka and shirt to try and keep the heat inside his parka, ignoring the flinch he offered when she pressed against his broken ribs. He would be lying dead if you didn’t break his ribs. She almost recoiled at just how cold his core still was.

But she could finally make out the details of his body against her own, which meant she’d minimized the layers between them and maximized heat transfer. She tried to also ignore the tenseness of his abdomen against her while she held him, the ripple of his back muscles under her fingers. By all definitions of the word, her hands were cold, but Cassian still managed to be colder. Her hands must have felt like furnaces to the icy skin she pressed against.

When Cassian realized this battle was lost, he snugged his arms firmly around her middle as well and pulled her in close, hoping that if he pulled her close enough, maybe they both could fit under the layers of parka, and the fact that Jyn wasn’t wearing hers anymore wouldn’t matter.

When he succeeded in wrapping them both in the coats, he wasn’t sure if he should have rejoiced or been upset. Sure, Jyn was no longer exposed, but the fact that she was small enough to share his parka was telling of more serious background problems.

When he locked his arms together around her waist, he realized just how small she’d gotten since he last was at Echo. Her ribs poked into his side. Light purple circles under her eyes were testament of her sleepless nights during his absence. Cassian chastised himself for being gone so long—because Jyn would never ask him to come home—she would never admit she needed help. But he could feel her struggling, and what was worse…he could feel the effects of her struggles with his bare hands.

Suddenly, Jyn was thankful she was so flush against the captain—if not for the warmth, then so he was not an angle from which he could see the color of her cheeks in that moment. Because with only his thin tunic between her arms and his stomach, she could feel every line of his body, hardened from shivering.

His breath puffed down the slope of her neck and fanned over her shoulder, trapped in their shell of parkas. Jyn pressed her own mouth into his collarbone, blowing warmth over the skin there, but being careful not to led the humidity of her breath make things worse. The skin beneath her lips tensed, but she persisted. She needed to convince herself he was real—alive, even going as far as resting the side of her face against his neck just so she could feel that faint pulse that meant he truly wasn’t going anywhere.

Moments before, her captain had been lying dead beneath the snow. What if she had come later? Would she have been unable to revive him? Would she have found him? Jyn remembered how she’d almost turned back. She’d almost left him in here to die, alone and betrayed. And she’d have never known what happened to him, and—

“Jyn?” 

Her name was almost imperceptible to the ear. She more readily felt the sound against her neck than heard it. And then she realized. She had also started shaking. He must have felt her quaking in his arms.

“S-sorry,” she said without conviction. “I guess we’re both a little cold.” 

But Jyn knew her own shaking had not been brought on by the chill, but fear—fear of loss. The loss of Cassian. Nothing to do with the cold.

What she didn’t know was that Cassian also knew this. And he gripped her tighter for it, hoping his embrace might convey the all of apologies he was afraid to say—all of the apologies he knew he owed her. Because he felt responsible for any danger she faced in her duty to the Rebel Alliance. 

She’d enlisted for him after all. And now he was the reason she was stranded out on the dangerous Hoth tundra at night, a mutineer after him. It was his fault she was here. So, by the Force, he held her with all the apologies he ever owed her tensing his muscles around her.

But Jyn was distracted—reminded of all the times they had sat like this in her bedroom back at Echo base, folded against the other. This time, it felt good to have the roles reversed. It felt good to feel his heart beat so steadily against her chest—her giving him warmth instead of him offering her comfort. Even if she had almost just lived out one of the nightmares that plagued her each night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update: all good things must come to an end--soon they'll have to figure out how they're going to battle their way out of this mutiny.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for late update! I'm traveling and don't have the best wifi--so I thought I'd get this chapter up while I had some internet even though it's well after midnight here. Enjoy the chapter! Action and angst ahead and even more to come

As the minutes ticked by, Jyn noticed Cassian’s shuddering begin to lessen. True, her own body heat had taken a severe plunge, but she reveled in the chill, because it meant that whatever she had lost, Cassian had absorbed. The whiskers along his jaw that had grown a little longer than usual in his absence tickled her cheek with each flickering breath he drew.

They sat intwined in each other’s embrace for a few minutes longer, and Jyn swore she could’ve fallen asleep there were it not for the shouting far off in the distance where she knew the mouth of the cave to be.

“Mierda,” Cassian cursed in her ear, shrugging out of her jacket before untangling himself from Jyn. “Time to go."

Considering only twenty minutes earlier, Cassian had been dead, Jyn was ecstatic to see him able to finally support himself on his own, even if he did waver where he sat.

“Put this back on,” he tossed Jyn her parka back before turning to zip his own jacket up. “And keep it on this time."

She donned it gratefully, not missing how much colder it felt than Cassian’s embrace. With a heave, Jyn pushed herself out of the snow and dusted herself off before peering down the cave shaft in the direction of the voices—the direction from which she'd come. Kriffing force, they were guarding the entrance.

There was no glowrod light against the walls yet, but she was sure that, whoever it was, they had found her Rebel ship and were following her footprints. They would be here in a few minutes.

When Cassian didn’t immediately stand up next to her, Jyn frowned.

“What are—?“

“I may need a little assistance,” he sounded embarrassed.

Jyn eyed him warily. “Cassian…”

“My leg,” he grimaced and attempted to lift himself from the snow onto his left leg. When pressure fell onto his right, his face blanched white with pain and he instantly collapsed back into the drift. “It, uh….it may be broken.”

“Why didn’t you say anything before?!” Jyn was at his side in an instant, her breath puffing white around them while her hands hovered just above his leg, not wanting to touch it.

She wasted no time in pulling his right arm around her neck. How he managed to keep silent about a splintered bone on top of the one’s Jyn was sure she’d given him all this time he was awake suddenly made her wary of whatever “intelligence training” he had gone through. What in the Force did they teach them to hide? And how? But as she thought harder about those questions, she decided she’d rather not know.

“Would that have made much difference?” He puffed.

Jyn grumbled something noncommittal under her breath but slowly straightened her legs and eased him to his feet, keeping all weight off of his right leg. Still, Cassian growled like he was biting his cheeks.

Grunting as she stood and bore most of his weight on her shoulders, Jyn ground out, “How did it happen?”

“Drakkar,” was all Cassian panted as he leaned into her. He might as well have shrugged with the all-too casual tone in which he announced it. There was the sudden irresistible desire to spill the contents of her stomach into the snow. Victor Drakkar had snapped Cassian’s leg to keep him from following him. And now he was coming back to finish the job. 

Imagining it made her legs weak. Jyn had heard the captain’s cry of pain before, and it was not a noise she could bear well. 

She glanced over to see him trying to take most of the burden onto his left leg.

“Knock it off,” Jyn scolded him. “Stop trying to stand—you’re just going to exhaust yourself.” 

Just then, she realized it was the same leg as before. And all of a sudden she was taken back to the beaches of Scarif. Her vision smudged.

Bombs echoed in the lobes of her brain, and she could still feel the humidity of the planet dripping down her stomach as she supported an injured Cassian, gripping his arms with grimed hands. At least now she didn’t bear any of her own injuries to make this harder. 

“Jyn."

But it was still so vivid. The fear—the blood—the blasters whizzing past them in displays of light. 

“Jyn!"

She hadn’t realized that she had spaced until an urgent voice breached the ghost of gunfire ringing in her ears.

“Jyn! Devuélvete a mi!” 

She shook her head to clear it. She murmured out some form of an apology, but refused to meet Cassian’s worried gaze. This was not the time to be distracted. There were Imperial forces gunning for them this very minute. And they were directly in the line of fire.

This was a rescue, dammit. Not a blind walk into a trap.

“We’re on Hoth, Jyn,” Cassian chanted in her ear, shaking her as best he could at his strained angle. “You’re with me, Estrellita. It’s not real—it’s not real.”

He squeezed her hand with his free arm and mumbled a few things in Festian as well because he knew he had tuned her ear to recognize it. She duly noted that it was some of the same utterances that he would offer while he held her after a nightmare. It tugged her heart into a slower rhythm.

Then he switched back into Basic. "You’re with me, here.” He waited a beat before saying, “and we have got to get out of here. I’m going to fly us out, remember?” 

That spurred her into action. Light was growing on the opposite wall of the cave—the direction they needed to be heading. Drakkar and his men were coming.

Jyn ushered them over to the edge of the cave, finding a nice jagged piece of rock melded with glacial icicle to squeeze behind. She stuffed Cassian in first, whispering a litany of apologies as his broken leg folded beneath him. At one point, he almost cried out, but Jyn shoved a hand over his mouth.

It broke her heart to see a tear squeeze down his cheeks. Cassian must have been in utter agony. He nodded when he was settled, eyes still clenched tight, letting her know she could remove her hand. But instead of taking it off his face, she just slid it over to his cheek while he panted as quietly as he could. 

Her face must’ve bred all the signs of the immense worry she was feeling because Cassian’s eyes suddenly met hers and he tried to relax his face into a sad smile. If that was some kind of apology, she didn’t want any part of it. But he seemed to more than accept her touch, but crave it, leaning his cheek into her hand so his breathing fluttered down her wrist. 

Their proximity to one another seemed to set a new record. If she didn’t fear for both their lives, she might’ve scoffed at all the intimacy the situation demanded.

“Over here!” A voice shouted. 

Jyn pressed Cassian further into the cave and slotted a finger to her lips as Cassian continued to struggle to get his breathing under control. Even with the sweat beading on his forehead, she could see his shivers beginning to emerge again. She peered around her shoulder, hoping her back and the rock would provide ample cover to keep them hidden.

“Find Andor,” another voice commanded. This one sounded a lot like the drawl of Drakkar. “And whoever Echo sent to retrieve him. Chances are they’ll have blasters, so be ready and fire on sight. Admiral Ozzel has sent Veers to the Base for Erso’s capture, but he’s expecting us to neutralize the Intelligence Captain. He's the only one left who knows about my sympathies. And he’s the one who will come after Erso once we have her.”

Jyn felt Cassian stiffen next to her. Suddenly, his hand fisted in jacket with more force than she expected, anchoring her against his chest. And she knew exactly why. Because Cassian always seemed to be able to read her mind.

“Cassian, dammit,” Jyn whispered as she pried at his iron fingers, employing her other hand to push against his steel chest. “Let me go!"

“Not. A chance,” he hissed with deadly malice, holding her gaze with unrelenting eyes. 

“I can bargain for your freedom,” Jyn reasoned. “You know it’s only a matter of time before they find us, Cassian, and they don’t plan on taking you alive.” Her eyes gave him a quick rove over and she nodded once as if to prove some point. “You are in no condition to take on Drakkar and whatever army he’s brought with him.”

“No.” He was as stern as he could be in the forced quietness. “Jyn, no. I won’t let you.”

“You have to let me try,” she breathed.

“They don’t know you’re here,” Cassian pinned her with an insistent glare, the incredulity he was hiding peeking out just enough. “That might be the only upper hand we have.”

“Exactly! So we use that against them!”

“I will not let you give yourself up!” The muscles in his jaw jumped, and she could hear his accent thickening again. “Do you hear me? I’m going out there—Drakkar is one of my men. And you will not pay the price for his mutiny against my command.“

“Then I’ll repeat myself,” she inched closer to his face, which he had set like stone. “I. Don’t. Need. Your. Permission!” She made to tug away from him, but Cassian’s grip was vice.

“Hey!” he tugged her back into him, frantic now, locking her against his chest. "Don’t be an idiot. Since when do we play into their hands?” His eyes flickered between hers. The look he was giving her was pained, and she wasn’t sure how long she could meet it.

Jyn tried to memorize the shapes of color in his eyes before she spoke again. “Since doing so will save your life.”

“You don’t get to play suicide just because there is a price on my head. Jyn, you know that doesn't—“

Before he could finish, Jyn seized the fabric of his parka, fell forward and pressed her lips to his, effectively silencing him. Again, not the way she imagined their lips meeting, even the second time. But it was still a sizable improvement from the first. The last bit of ice crystals that hadn’t yet melted from his facial hair pricked her skin. At that point, she was sure the flush of her face had melted whatever remained.

Cassian was too stunned to kiss her back, but Jyn didn’t mind so much because at least she had managed to silence him. She tried not to think about his rejection those weeks ago as she committed this violation. But if he wanted to resist, he didn’t. Besides, as much as she wished it were, this wasn’t about what she felt, it was about getting him to shut his damn trap and listen.

His lips were still colder than she hoped. But in accordance with her plan, she’d also managed to get Cassian’s grip on her jacket to slacken considerably—something she would soon take advantage of. 

Jyn broke the kiss almost as quickly as she started it, the full force of what she had done hitting her, eyes wide with apology. But before she could get very far, Cassian’s hand found its way around the back of her neck and pulled her back to him with a hunger she wasn’t expecting. 

It was brief, but the intensity of the kiss made her decision all the more difficult. Dammit, Cassian. No doubt that had been his intention. So Jyn put a stop to it.

When she broke away she leaned her forehead against his and whispered, “You heard what they said—'Erso’s capture’...they need me alive, Cassian.” Jyn sat back a little, taking good care to notice the pinker shade of his lips now. "You, on the other hand,” she traced his face with a concerned but knowing gaze, “you they’ll shoot point blank. And I won’t let that happen.”

Cassian searched her eyes in disbelief, his brow pinched over his eyes as he just shook his head. It was almost worse than him not saying anything.

“Sir!” One of the men shouted. "Nothing at the far south end of the cave!” 

“Well, check the eastern prongs then!” Drakkar shouted without patience. Jyn chanced another glimpse over her shoulder just as he continued. “There is only one entrance to this cave! Do your bloody job and find them!”

But then she felt Cassian pull her chin back to him. “Dios mío, Jyn,” he slurred quickly before she could interrupt him again. “Do you have any idea what they’ll do to you? Prisoners of the Empire do not survive! I can’t—“

“You’ve asked a lot of things from me, Captain.” Jyn's smirk was laced with a resignation that came off as sadness, much to her chagrin. He was too good at reading her. “And I’ve obeyed each one of them...But don’t ask me not to do this.” She sighed a shuddering breath. "Because I’ll be forced to commit mutiny, too. With or without your approval, I am going out there, and you are going to keep your arse hidden right here. The rebellion needs you more than it needs me—”

“—Damn the rebellion!”

And I need you more than you need me. Jyn wished there was a life in which she could say those words. Because in this one she could not.

His brown eyes flashed dark with anger, and something else that Jyn had never seen in his eyes before: panic. She could see him getting ready to reason with her, and suddenly she regretted giving him a card to pull. She couldn’t let him use it.

“Jyn Erso, as your Captain and superior I order you—"

She leaned forward, but instead of kissing him, she whispered against his lips, “I’m not sorry.” It put her in a position to do something for which she would never forgive herself.

Jyn squeezed her eyes shut and pressed on his broken leg just hard enough so that his grip would slip from her jacket in his pain, lips parting in a quiet gasp. 

She used the opportunity to kick snow over his cringed form to camouflage him more before launching herself from the crevice and into the light of a squadron’s-worth of glowrods. The last thing she heard was her name on Cassian's lips in one final desperate attempt to call her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I write for you guys :)  
> Next update: the confrontation scene we've all been waiting for!! And hella angst like I promised


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello my chicken nuggets-thanks for returning to my story. Summer college is kicking my ass (two more days-this is what I get for trying to give myself an easier senior year), but this little escapade and its small group of followers (you lovely people) keep me sane. Let's see how Jyn and Cassian get out of this one, yes?

“Drakkar!” she shouted. All the soldiers turned their blasters on her, bathing her in the light of their glowrods. 

“Hold your fire!” Drakkar bellowed when an errant shot grazed Jyn’s upper arm. She yelped and gripped the hot skin with a shaky hand. Fortunately, it had just blown the stuffing from her parka and singed the epidermis of her arm, missing the muscle.

Jyn whipped back to face Drakkar. “You can tell Admiral Ozzel that you have Jyn Erso, daughter of Galen Erso, right here at Echo Station 3-T-8.”

“Erso,” Drakkar sneered. “I should have known it would be you to Andor’s rescue.” He spit into the snow. “What kind of Intelligence officer lets himself care so deeply for someone?” He barked out a laugh. “Quite frankly, it goes against all the training—because now he’s give me something to exploit.”

Jyn prayed Cassian would stay put. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Victor,” she hissed as she took a tentative step forward, hoping to leave Cassian well behind in the shadows. “I came here to retrieve mission alpha-G74 under direct orders from Echo General Rieekan.” 

“Is that so?” Drakkar challenged.

“Yes,” her spine straightened with conviction. 

“You’re a piss poor liar, Erso,” Drakkar chuckled and toed the snow with an amused boot, “always have been. Andor’s been too easy on you in Intelligence training. And now I understand why.”

He was pissing her off. Her voice sharpened. “I sent Captain Andor with Sepsom back to Echo Base on the emergency X-Wing kept at the station. Your men will have to look for them there.”

“Then what...are you still doing here?” He quirked an eyebrow in a way that suggested he knew something that she had forgotten. “If I may be so bold,” he offered sweepingly. 

Jyn fumbled. “I’m still looking for Shysa,” she blurted.

“Mikal,” Drakkar purred. “Mikal is dead, Jyn.”

She did her best to make this news look like it shocked her. Her disgust with him was not forced, though. “You absolute bastard—!"

“But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“What? No, I—"

“Capitán Andor told you that himself,” he mocked Cassian’s Festian, making Jyn’s fist twitch with the desire to smash Drakkar's teeth in. He swayed toward her. “Good ole’ Cassian told you that because he’s still with you, isn’t he? Want to know how I know that?” 

He was suddenly standing before Jyn, stinking breath fanning into her face. His lips pulled over his teeth in a twisted smile. “Because I watched Sepsom himself pilot a single-seater X-Wing towards Echo on my way to finish off mission a-G74 myself. Because I just came back from shoving a bomb down Sepsom’s throat when Echo’s main gate wouldn’t open because General Rieekan ordered a barricade on the base. Not! A retrieval!”

They were inches apart. Drakkar was peering down his nose at a fuming Jyn. 

“No,” he chuffed. “This retrieval was not ordered by Rieekan.” His eyes perked as he caught wind of her hidden blaster tenting the hem of her jacket. He reached down slowly and took it into his fingers like one might handle an egg and observed her back-up plan. 

"This was a mission of the heart.” He kept the gun in front of his nose, but flitted his eyes back to Jyn’s face. "How fitting is it that the same organ that could’ve saved the good captain will now be the reason for his demise?” 

Before she could jump away, Drakkar had brought her blaster down hard over her cheek and her vision flashed white as she stumbled backwards, one hand flying up to nurse the split of skin just under her eye. Blood was already filling the wound.

Jyn was undone. She surged forward and managed to land one solid punch into the man’s gut and a knee in his groin, earning a few good groans, before he sliced a gash across her leg with a blade she didn’t even know he had. Jyn cried out and made to move backwards, but not before he summoned an arm to wrap around her throat from behind.

She gagged and tried to stomp at his feet, but, towering a good foot over her, he was able to seize her into the air so her feet flailed and her windpipe collapsed. Blood was warming her thigh in a gruesome display of dark crimson, spilling into the snow.

“Where is Andor, Jyn?” He snarled into her ear.

“I already told you—,” she choked. “He’s gone back to Echo base!—Not—here!”

“You’re only making this harder on yourself, Erso. Just tell me where he is!”

“Fuck—you.”

“Alright, hard way it is,” he tightened his arm and all air was cut off. “That’s it!” he snarled while she thrashed. Her need for oxygen was growing dire, and her chest felt the weight of death by asphyxiation sitting on her ribs. 

“Captain Andor!” he bellowed into the cold over Jyn’s choking. “Come out now if sweet, young Jyn is to make use of her lungs again!”

No. Oh, Force, no.

Stars popped before her retinas and her ears went deaf under the siege of her airways until suddenly, Drakkar seized up behind her and she went crashing down into the snow. 

Air rushed to reinflate her lungs as Jyn just let herself lay on the ground, panting and choking. Her trachea rattled painfully, but she managed to turn her head in the snow and confirm her worst nightmare.

There, at the edge of the glacial cave, loomed the sturdy figure of Cassian Andor looking as dangerous as Jyn had ever seen him. This man was the trained Intelligence Rebel Captain, not the man who held her after a nightmare at Echo base. He had blown his cover. Of course he had blown his cover.

Two smoking blasters sat cocked in each hand and his right leg hovered just off the ground. How he managed to pull himself up would always remain a mystery to Jyn.

“Touch her again and the next shot goes between your eyes, Victor,” Cassian all but snarled at the man rubbing his sizzling arm above her. Angry shadows sharpened his cheekbones and pooled darkly in his eye sockets as he confronted his mutineer.

“Ah,” Drakkar cooed in amusement, “there he is! The man of the hour! I’m sorry,” he laughed, “you—threatening me, it’s funny really.” He sounded far too excited at the prospect. “Threatening the man who has the power to—”

Jyn couldn’t hold back the cry of pain when Drakkar sent his foot into her ribs. She curled into herself, gasping and choking on nothing. Never had she been so happy to have skipped a few meals. Because she most likely would have puked anything up after that agony.

Cassian must have yelled something, too, but it was lost to her ears, the pain still crowding out the other noises. But being right above her, Drakkar was all too audible.

“You even think about shooting me again, and your little sergeant down there pays the price. Or maybe I’ll just let her bleed. That’s a nasty slice she’s got there.” He shook his head, but still wore a sickening smile. “This is a mutiny, Captain. I don’t think you realize who calls the shots now.”

“Then deal with your Captain, Drakkar. Leave her out of this.”

Jyn had not taken her eyes from Cassian. His presence was both the best distraction from her pain and the worst omen she’d been trying to avoid. How had this plan backfired so terribly? She felt the hot breath of someone behind her and realized Drakkar must’ve bent to her level. 

“Whad’ya think, Erso? Do I listen to your boyfriend over there?”

“Go to hell, Drakkar.” Jyn still wouldn’t look at him. The blood loss was not getting to her yet, but she had no doubts that a few more minutes and she’d be stumbling. So she gripped her leg to staunch as much as she could. Cassian needed her legs to get them out of here—or at least, to get him out.

He sighed. “Wrong answer, Jyn.” For a moment, she was afraid she’d bought herself another injury, but then his legs straightened and the sickening humidity of his breath left her ear.

Cassian’s eyes flicked down to Jyn trying to ask if she was alright—they hovered for a split second on the dark blood dripping down her cheek from where Drakkar had struck her and then on her leg. Fire momentarily blazed around the edges of his pupils. 

But he didn’t allow them to linger long enough for her to answer because Drakkar had stepped over Jyn and was making his way towards Cassian. His attention snapped back toward the man strutting slowly towards him, gun steady.

“You’ve caused me quite a bit of delay, Captain Andor.”

“You murdered Shysa,” Cassian responded, his voice low and deliberate and, by Force, absolutely menacing. His mouth pulled down a fraction at the corners and he shook his head, but whether in disbelief or disgust, Jyn couldn’t tell. “I don’t give a damn about your schedule.”

From where she lay, she could see Cassian’s lips pulling over his teeth of their own accord. “He was just a boy. And now Sepsom? Why, Victor...those are a coward’s errands.”

Jyn watched as Drakkar stalked forward—all his men’s guns pointed at the confrontation happening just steps in front of her. But something caught her eye—Drakkar’s extra blaster tucked into the holster straddling his thigh. 

“Cowards are the ones still alive at the end,” Drakkar shrugged. “So you can take your bravery to the grave and let me know how useful it is for you there.” 

Cassian growled and aimed his gun with more conviction.

“Ah-ah!! Remember!” He motioned behind him. “One order from me and my men shoot Erso down there. You make me repeat myself,” he shook his head but was still smiling. “But I don’t get tired of reminding you. I may have orders to capture your sergeant alive, but the things I am allowed to do, well,” he smirked. “Let’s just say she’ll wish I had orders to kill.”

He struck Cassian in his right leg with his blaster rifle and watched with satisfaction at his handiwork as he crumpled to the snow in pain.

“This freedom,” he spoke without consequence and nudged Cassian’s broken leg with his boot, making Jyn have to actively stifle her urge to cry out for him to stop. “This freedom from the Alliance feels like.” He paused, ruminating as he drew in a breath through his flared nostrils. Jyn sized up her opportunities. Then Drakkar exhaled and pressed his foot down over Cassian’s leg. “It’s like I’m no longer being crushed.” 

Something snapped and Cassian cried out, churning Jyn’s stomach and her anger. “Stop it!” She shouted. “Stop! You bastard! You have me! Just let him go!”

“Jyn! Be quiet!” Cassian ordered in rapid fire, pain behind each word he shouted from where he lay at the mercy of his once-inferior. 

Drakkar turned to cast an amused glance at Jyn. “You’ve quite shown your hands, you two,” he whistled through his teeth and clucked his tongue. “Don’t ever let anyone allow you to play cards. Because you’d lose…just like you’re losing now.” The old private moved his foot down a few clicks and rested there in patient pressure. “And I think you both bet just a little too much.”

Jyn’s mouth went dry as she watched Cassian writhe, using every last ounce of intelligence training Cassian had tried to give her several months back to stay quiet. In that moment, she had never admired and hated the Captain’s strength more.

Drakkar’s sadism was cue enough. Jyn leapt to her feet just before Drakkar could give the order to open fire on his reduced opponent and snatched his blaster pistol. But she did something Drakkar probably was not expecting.

Jyn plunged the barrel of the blaster against her chest just over her heart and molded her fingers to the trigger.

Drakkar let out a shriek of annoyance and made to lunge after her, but Jyn interrupted him and stepped backwards. Somewhere in the cacophony, Cassian had shouted something, but it was lost amidst Jyn’s adrenaline. 

“I’ll pull this trigger, I swear to God!”

That stopped Drakkar.

Cassian watched her actions helplessly, but Jyn had her eyes trained on the Rebel traitor. 

“Step away from Captain Andor,” Jyn’s words were tumbling from her mouth.

When Drakkar didn’t move she tightened her finger on the trigger and screamed, “Now!”

Drakkar obeyed, flashing her his palms as he lightly stepped over Cassian and back toward his squadron. He searched her with a sharp gaze.

“You think I care if the life of another rebel is lost?” Drakkar huffed.

“Am I just another life?” Jyn questioned, furrowing her brow. “Is that why I’m to be captured? Is that why you’re doing as I ask?”

Drakkar only snarled, but then his course of action was clear to him. 

“You wanna know so badly why Admiral Ozzel wants you alive?!” Drakkar egged. All she could do was blink at him. “Daddy Erso didn’t die that night up there on that platform!”

Jyn stopped breathing, her finger stalled over the trigger.

“Oh-h,” he continued happily, seeing her reaction. “You didn’t know you’d left your poor Papa up there still breathing, did you? Captain Andor told you he was dead didn’t he? Well, it shouldn’t come as a huge surprise to you, but the Capitán is a liar. Most intelligence officers are, you know. It’s their job!”

“That’s…not possible,” Jyn breathed, “I felt his breathing stop.”

“And what about his heart,” Drakkar asked. “Huh? What about his life? Did you feel that stop?” There was a dangerous glint in his eye, whetted like a knife. “When the Empire found him, he was damn near dead. But a few days in a bacta tank and some…imperial therapy, so to speak, and he was reporting for duty soon after, all shiny and new again.”

Jyn felt her legs go numb all over again. Through the haze of guilt, Jyn had to remind herself why she was pointing a gun at her chest.

“But Daddy Erso wasn’t as compliant with the Empire the second time around. So the Emperor decided he needed a little...incentive.” He chucked his hands up in question, voice rising. "What better way to get him to finish his latest project for the Empire than by threatening him with the life of his daughter? His Stardust…” The last word was spoken with such venom, Jyn almost turned the gun on Drakkar and shot him right then and there. But she had Cassian to think about. Even if he did lie to her that day on the platform—even if he didn’t return her sentiments.

Jyn steadied the gun and leveled her gaze with the betrayer. “You need me alive,” she stated what was now obvious, letting smug amusement widen over her features. "So something tells me that if I pull this trigger right now, I am also pulling yours,” Jyn couldn’t help the sneer on her face. “And while that would be something worth dying for, I have a suspicion that my life can be useful for my own bargains.”

After it seemed Drakkar wasn’t going to answer, he finally conceded angrily. “You bitch.” He shook his head. "Name your terms.”

Jyn rejoiced in the silence of her mind. “You let Captain Andor walk out of here and board that ship outside. I don’t remove this blaster from my chest until I see his ship traveling safely back to Echo, and you don’t lay another finger on any Rebel stationed at Echo—”

“Jyn!" Cassian’s voice was livid. “Don’t—!"

It was Jyn’s turn to silence him. “Shut up, Cassian.” Jyn snapped but didn’t look at him, knowing if she did, she would regret it. “You take me back to your ship, and you leave Hoth in hyperspace."

“Drakkar this is madness!” Cassian fought, hoisting himself to his knees. He pulled one of his blasters and leveled it with Drakkar’s brow. “What use of Erso could you possibly have? Her stripes don’t even put her past Seargent. I’m the intelligence officer. I can—“

Another hit to his leg did a little more than silence him. “You heard your girlfriend, Captain,” Drakkar wiped his brow as if all this beating offered him exertion. He peered down at the gasping captain that had folded in on himself, but still managed to keep his arm strong. “Now get that damned blaster out of my face and get a move on toward that ship. Unless you want Jyn, here, to blast a hole through her sternum, and then I get to blast a hole though yours.”

Cassian didn’t move, only glared harder at the man he used to command.

“Cassian, for kriff's sake.” Jyn edged over toward him, keeping her blaster tight against her chest, and pulled her captain to his left leg. “You’ve broken his leg,” she told Drakkar when he moved to bar her efforts. “How in the hell do you expect him to walk out of here?”

Drakkar straightened up and smoothed back his collar, taking stock of his men with a swivel of his thick neck. He nodded at his squadron to follow them out, while Jyn rushed forward and embraced Cassian, helping him struggle to his feet. To her surprise, he held her to him just as strongly.

Cassian’s hands were on her the second they broke apart, roaming the new injuries she’d received. “Jyn, what were you thinking?!” He hissed. His fingers prodded her leg wound and she bit her cheeks to keep from letting on the extent of her pain. But when she noticed how dark his eyes had gotten when his hand came back slick with her blood, she decided she’d better answer.

“I was thinking we had an angle, and we’d be damned if we didn’t use it.”

“No,” he growled, “no, we don’t get to trade lives like this.”

“HEY!” 

Cassian shifted Jyn behind him at Drakkar’s scream.

“I said move out! You can say goodbyes while you walk—now move.”

Cassian glowered at the man who’d betrayed his command. Jyn had to tug his arm to get him to move, and she reassumed her position under Cassian’s arm.

The moment they started to walk, Jyn nearly capsized at the pain shooting through her leg. Immediately Cassian dropped his weight to his good leg so he could help Jyn regain her footing. 

“Shit, sorry. I’m fine, really—”

“No you’re not,” Cassian disagreed. “Drakkar!”

“Do you not listen when I give you orders? Keep moving!”

“Her leg needs to be treated—you need her alive? You help her.”

“Cassian, I’m serious, I’m okay—”

Drakkar moved towards the pair. “I treat her when I say she gets treated, understood? And right now, I say she gets treated after you leave, when she is in our custody. No sooner. So I suggest that you move more quickly if her blood loss is scaring you.”

Jyn could see the muscles in Cassian’s jaw jump as the man got closer. 

“We’re moving,” she spat towards the mutineer. And so they continued onward.

The two hobbled no less gracefully than when they had made their way before. Jyn could feel Cassian tense beside her. He was a little more than upset with her right now. But she would take Cassian’s wrath over his pain any day. Besides, she was not thrilled with him either—telling her that her father was gone up on that platform just to get her to move. They could have saved him! Even if he didn’t know...

A small part of her—the part she wanted to silence—the part that knew her captain—that small part worried about what stunt Cassian could pull that would ruin this whole plan as soon as they broke the edge of the glacier.

As the wind began to pick up speed near the entrance, all Jyn could do was worry, and try to get him to look at her so she could shake her head. Instead, she settled for two words. “Don’t,” her voice was barely audible. But the hardening of his eyes told her that he’d heard her.

“Please.”

When he finally responded icily, Jyn’s stomach dropped.

“I don’t need your permission."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mehehe. Another cliffy. I'm only a little sorry. But for those who guessed Cassian wouldn't abandon Jyn out there, you were right. And it certainly gets them into trouble.
> 
> Next update: let's see what kind of romantic tension Jyn and Cassian had on Echo base...bit of a flashback chapter, but necessary for their romantic constipation that I am trying hard to resolve.
> 
> Thanks to all who've given Kudos and commented!! You guys are so supportive.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thursday, loves! Here is the latest installment--it is a flashback chapter like I promised because we need some relationship developing. I used this as an excuse to distract myself that I have a final tomorrow. Let's see what sort of romantic constipation the rebellion has left our characters with:

Jyn had always prided herself on how well she was able to figure out even the most elusive of people. And it didn’t get much more elusive than Cassian Andor.

She recalled the one time there was music after the dining hours had terminated. She’d been in the refresher when her neighbor Tavion Tershin pounded on her door and demanded she come out for once to have fun. 

Jyn had set her brush down a little too hard and was just refastening her hair low and tight on her head with her characteristic fringe waving at the sides when Tavion just let herself in. “I’m still dressed in my uniform—!"

“Don’t care! Come on, you hermit! Let’s go dancing for once!”

Allowing herself to be pulled along physically, Jyn had decided that mentally she was still playing catch-up. “Slow down, Tav!” She windmilled after her friend, but the tunes in the background were growing in decibels until the hallway opened up to the mess hall full of soldiers, sergeants, privates, pilots, commanders, corporals, and all ranks. There was a band against the far end of the cantina hall cranking out songs.

Tavion had pulled her right into the thickest part of the crowd and Jyn didn’t even have to dance—the throng of bodies had a rhythm of its own and moved her limbs for her.

She and her friend had spent well over an hour in the jumble of bodies before Jyn began heeding the signs of exhaustion in her limbs pulled along by a stiff dehydration. True, she hadn’t wanted to even be there in the first place—but to humor her friends, she’d swallowed whatever hunk of pride might have kept her from having fun.

The music was beginning to slow down anyways, and the throng was dissolving more into a less tightly-knit group of swayers. Instead of one dense atom in the center of the mess hall, the dining arena now looked more dappled. Dots of people clustered in little colonies, but for the most part, there was finally room to walk.

Jyn saw her escape and took it. First thing she needed to find was some water. There was a heavy sheen of perspiration over her upper lip and forehead that had stolen the water from whatever reservoir she’d had saved up from work. Now her mouth felt gummy and cried to be dampened. While the heat did feel a whole hell of lot better than the ice of Hoth for once, she couldn’t ignore the dry tug of her throat any longer.

There was a bubbler down the hall toward the hangars that she could use. She began to tred through the crowds and had just breached the threshold when someone spoke so softly she almost missed it.

“It’s always quite a marvel, don’t you think?”

Still a little riled up, Jyn started when she heard the voice. 

“Sorry,” Cassian muttered from his intent perch against the wall. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Oh,” she panted, hating how out-of-shape she sounded. She had been dancing for well over an hour. “No…no, that’s alright.” 

Cassian was leaning on the wall just at the mouth of the hallway toward the hangar where the bubbler in question lived. Even though he spoke to Jyn, his trained eyes never left the mosh pit of soldiers forgetting their rank for one night of merriment. Except for his outside leg, the rest of his body was largely obscured in the shadows. That was something Cassian had always excelled at—keeping to the dark spots and going unnoticed by the world.

Jyn actually felt sorry she’d almost missed him. She didn’t want to be lumped in with the rest of the world that failed to notice him. Then again…he had spoken to her. Perhaps this was his way of keeping her from being like everyone else.

“What’s a marvel?” She padded over to him slowly, careful not to draw attention to his vantage point. He didn’t seem like the dancing type—so the last thing she wanted was to alert the party-goers to a stiff in the corner. They made it their jobs to convert stiffs. Jyn respected his need for space more than that.

“The ability to just…let…go,” he struggled to finish like the words didn’t gel with whatever idea he’d had. 

Jyn understood.

“It’s easier than it looks,” she followed his gaze to the happy faces. If she looked close enough, she could see the scars, the bruises, the demons. She licked her lips.

Just after her unconscious display, something cold pressed against her arm. Jyn almost started again, but calmed before she could make Cassian feel bad about nearly scaring her twice even at such a proximal location.

Against her arm was a water bottle that Cassian had offered up. And it was cold.

When she just stared at it confused, he responded, “I was just coming back from training so I had stuffed it with snow. You’re free to drink whatever is left in my canteen.”

Jyn mumbled something about him being over perceptive but accepted it gratefully and tugged a long draught from the spout, not missing how full it still was.

She turned a questioning eye on Cassian as she twisted the cap back onto his canteen and passed it back to him.

He knew her question before she had a chance to ask and chuckled in spite of himself. “It was a bit too frozen when I needed it.” But his smile slipped as soon as it had come.

“Well,” she wiped her mouth, “it’s quite melted now,” she responded stupidly. That was obvious.

They both just turned and watched as the base slowly dispersed back toward their cabins. Jyn could no longer see Tavion and wondered if she made it back alright, feeling a little guilty for abandoning her friend. But as people left, it was startling to see who was inebriated enough to leave as they came—excited and blind—and to see who’s drink had worn off enough to hull them back into droning reality and heavy war-burden. More and more people left and the beat became slower and slower.

Jyn cast a quite but quick look over at Cassian. He looked like a man in search of peace. But she knew he wouldn’t take it unless someone thrust it in his hands, ironically. 

“Captain Andor,” she introduced.

“Jyn,” he frowned, “you know I don’t like it when you use my title like I’m superior.”

“You’re my superior. I never said you were ‘superior.' That’s quite a crucial piece of grammar you’re leaving out there, sir,” Jyn elbowed him playfully.

His lips twitched but he didn’t smile. “And no ‘sir’s either, Estrellita.” 

Color bloomed up her neck at the sound of his Festian nickname for her. As much training as Cassian had given her about not betraying her emotions by keeping a straight face, she still hadn’t managed to learn how to re-direct her blood flow. Something told her that wasn’t physically possible—and her blushing was just another bout of bad-luck. But dammit if she didn’t try.

She finally made a soldier’s about-face, gazing straight up into his tired eyes. She could see sweat drying on his face as well—most likely from his training. He’d been dressed down slightly to make movement easier. Dark garbs hugged his muscles so their tense little geometries flexed under the brash light of the mess hall. Jyn was suddenly very thankful that the rest of him was contained to the shadows.

“Well,” she started up again, reclaiming her mind, “we have to acknowledge rank before we break it.”

Cassian finally blinked and his eyes came out of focus. “Break it?” he repeated.

Jyn slipped her right hand into Cassian’s left one and tugged the other around the back of his right bicep so it looped around until her hand rested against his shoulder.

“Break rank and dance with your sergeant, Captain,” Jyn had asked in a way that didn’t imply a question. 

Cassian had let himself be molded—albeit, a little rigidly—but Jyn took that as a positive sign at the least. Jyn knew she was strong, but Cassian also had a good five or six inches on her…on a good day. If he wanted to overpower her, he could’ve. But he didn’t. He hadn’t.

“Jyn—” he started but trailed off as she began to sway on her feet to the significantly slowed music that the band was now piping out to make sure the last few stragglers evacuated the makeshift dance floor soon. 

He tried again. “You’re quite terrible at this,” he remarked as Jyn awkwardly continued without rhyme or reason to her moves. She had slipped and stepped on his feet a few times.

“Then be a man and lead,” she retorted without falter. It had only been a little embarrassing to make a fool of herself—but it got him to step up.

At that, something in Cassian fell into place. Suddenly, his arms tightened around her, and his steady grip snugged her against him a little more until his legs were slowly guiding hers in a series of foreign steps. It must have been some Festian dance that his mother had taught him from his childhood. It was quite heartening to think he could still remember the moves all those years later.

Now their faces were mere inches apart, and Jyn could feel his fluttering heart still trying to slow from his training. No doubt hers was doing the same thing. 

That’s what she told herself…at least. 

They looked anywhere but each other. She chose the flexed muscle of his shoulder that changed shape from time to time as he guided her. Absentmindedly she wondered where his eyes were. But she was aptly distracted by the light pressure of his fingers against the small of her back.

Again. Jyn prided herself on knowing people—even the most elusive of rebel captains. And as they turned with the dying pulse of the melody, Jyn could feel the “marvel” he'd spoken of earlier. For a few precious minutes, she was able to get Captain Andor to…let go.

He was not a soldier who had done terrible things. She was not an orphan with nightmares. He was just a man dancing with a girl after a long day. Nothing more. 

At one point he had just cut their losses and lifted Jyn lightly to stand atop his feet so he could step for the both of them because her fumbles were interfering with the dance, but she wasn’t sure when he had done that. Cassian could be quite sneaky when he wanted to be. And apparently Jyn just wasn’t up to par with both her dance moves or her attention that night. Because suddenly she’d looked down and he was dancing for the both of them.

Eventually, Jyn grew tired of trying to avoid his gaze and simply drew herself closer to him so her chin grazed his shoulder instead. But she treaded carefully, knowing this position might trigger flashbacks of Scarif with one small move. The last thing either of them needed was for one of them to be transported back to that day during such a tender moment. 

But at least this way her eyes could rest anywhere without consequence. And at this proximity she could memorize the scent that she’d begun to associate with his comfort in the night: engine oil, blaster burns, gun powder, sweat, even blood…and then something she didn’t have a name for—something that only belonged to him. It was the intangible she’d never lose hold of. 

She brushed her cheek over his shoulder, her lips coming just shy of his collarbone so every exhale dusted the hollow of his neck. She felt his breath stutter against her own neck at this position. 

The hand around his shoulder slowly traced up of it’s own accord to the nape of his neck and into the feathers of his hair, twisting there. Maybe she could communicate the desperate purchase she’d found in his presence, since they were both lousy with words. And for a moment, he was pliant against her, leaning into the touch only to trace her spine with wispy pressure.

At Jyn’s sigh against him from her first moment of peace in a long time, suddenly it was over.

Without warning, Cassian suddenly pulled away like she’d offered him offense, setting her roughly on her feet before moving back several paces.

Jyn, suddenly cold, missed the contact, but found herself more upset at the rejection. There was an uncharacteristic aloofness in his eyes as he stared at her without emotion. A deep pang tugged at the lining of her stomach.

“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean—“ she hated herself for apologizing. But the embarrassment was clear on her cheeks. And the shame was burned like alcohol in her chest, extending hot fingers down her neck.

“It’s fine,” he responded gruffly but with a soldier’s enunciation. “Think nothing of it.”

Nothing.

“Why don’t we maybe just…go for a walk.” Actually, Jyn wanted nothing more than to just go to work right now and forget that she’d just crossed a line with her Captain, since she knew sleep wasn’t going to happen. But something in her craved his guilt in repayment for hers.

“I’d rather we didn’t.” 

Unconsciously, she realized she’d begun wringing her hands and forced them back to her side. The song was still playing, but now it sounded more like a hissing of strings and pipes than a melody. Jyn wasn’t sure if she preferred the song or the silence in this moment of staring.

“Would you like me to walk you back to your room?” Cassian finally asked out of formality, his voice robotic.

“I’ll spare you the company,” Jyn managed. A scowl played preemptively on the lines of her face. “Goodnight, Captain Andor.” She tossed him a chilly mock salute and spun on her heel toward her cabin, her heart a thundering, shameful thing. 

Along the way, she had found Tavion and Elix Yalthick from cargo security hitting it off in one of the corridors. Being native to Alderaan, Yalthick hadn’t taken the news of its destruction all that well and was now a notorious scoundrel by night. Despite keeping her head down and powering forward, Jyn was spotted by Tav who flagged her over. 

“You snuck off on me, Erso!” Tavion slurred. “What kind of sergeant leaves her private behind?” Elix chuckled throatily and nipped at her ear lobe.

Jyn rolled her eyes. “The sober kind,” she said, grabbing Tav’s arm and hoisting her with her back toward their rooms. Elix flopped back against the wall, one arm shooting out to support his pliable stance. 

“—Wait!” she protested, trying to shove Jyn’s vice grip from her arm, “let me say goodnight to—“

“Trust me,” Jyn grumbled, “you’ll be glad I stopped you in the morning, now come on.”

Tavion let herself be led, her soldier’s training subconsciously keeping her from toppling over with every step. 

“Wait a minute,” she grinned up at her friend, tossing black bangs from her eyes. “Have you been gardening lately, neighbor?” She pinched one of Jyn’s cheeks with a drunken claw. Jyn jerked her head away earning a laugh from her inebriated cargo. “‘Cause you sure got a whole heck of a lot of roses buddin’ all over your cheeks, there. Who did you sneak off with, huh?”

Jyn swatted her away. “Enough, Tav,” she barked a little more harshly than she intended.

Tavion recoiled. “Ouch! And you’ve got the thorns to go with ‘em!”

She silenced her friend as they passed their cabin of the councilor for their wing. Technically they were out way after curfew and could be disciplined publicly for their break of parole. 

After dumping Tav off back at her door and making sure it clicked shut, Jyn waited until she heard the fresher water start running before proceeding quietly to her own door.

Cassian didn’t come that night, leaving Jyn to toss and turn in her damp sheets, dreaming, this time, of her parents. Because maybe she didn’t know Cassian as well as she thought after all…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews make some of the best music. So leave my a symphony!
> 
> Next update: we jump back to the present and see how all our events add up. Heavy pining on the way ;)
> 
> Also thanks to all who have commented and left Kudos!! And thank you to the readers who have pointed out certain errors or areas of improvement in my writing--I cherish your constructive feedback!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Wow, thanks for all the support for this story! Your feedback has been so amazing. Flashbacks are important, but let's get back to the action, yes? Happy reading :)

Each gust of wind that blustered past them was a pulsing reminder of just how close Jyn was to parting with Cassian...assuming everything went according to plan. 

After his little comment he'd made several paces back, Jyn set her mind racing to figure out just what he could be scheming. If she had to use his broken leg to quiet him into submission again then, God forbid, she'd do it to save his sorry life without hesitation. Even if he didn't share the feelings for her that she held for him, she knew that losing him would finish her. In a way, she was acting selfishly.

While Jyn couldn't see Drakkar and his men behind them, she could feel the charged energy of the air at her back signaling an army in pursuit. It was a familiar feeling that she'd picked up after years with Saw. And it was not a feeling she enjoyed—the hair on her neck standing on end and the sweat connecting her ribs to her hips in rolling beads.

Cassian had remained quiet at her side during the entire walk out of the cave, jaw set. Little tendons ridged where he clenched his teeth, either against the pain or to steel himself for whatever was to come in the next ten minutes. Every step they took together, she could feel the slipping of his broken bones over each other resonating up his leg, like he was a broken toy with the pieces rattling around inside. He needed a bacta patch and a bone knitter immediately. She’d have to remember to remind him if they did manage to get him on board her Echo ship.

The light of the glowrods were slowly dimming in the wake of the reflection of Hoth's moons on snow out the mouth of the cave. Jyn had almost forgotten night had fallen. 

She felt almost selfishly lucky that Cassian's leg had broken. Between the effort of supporting him and his painful effort of trying to maneuver without crushing his crutch kept them both exerted and warm. It also kept their sides pressed together. Hoth at night was a death trap.

Whatever warmth they had generated in hiking did not reach her frozen toes, however. She hoped they were still a normal color under the thick hide of her boots. 

Finally, she acknowledged the organ that was damn near throwing itself out of her thoracic cavity with how voraciously it was beating against her ribs. Jyn was terrified.

Not only had Cassian been stone-cold dead only about an hour ago, now that risk played itself out again--only this time she'd be around to watch it happen--to watch the light bleed from his eyes.

And her father. Her father was alive?! In her mind, she wasn't sure whether she wanted Drakkar to be telling the truth or lying. Both options were too painful to entertain. It was as though someone had wedged a knife up her ribs and reopened the wound torn in her heart that day on Eadu. That same heart that was betraying her emotions now. She envied Cassian's stony mien and wondered how she would have fared under intelligence training. 

But before she could wonder too long, the night sky poked into view, and with it, her ship, which she'd parked in a snowdrift, as well as Drakkar's. At least two feet of snow now blanketed both vessels. The temperature reached well below dangerous levels. They couldn’t stay out here long or the exposure of their skin would frostbite.

Off in the distance, flashes of light and little booming echoes indicated the start of the siege on Echo base by imperial AT-AT's. Her heart sank at the prospect, but she clung to the small hope that the shield was doing its job. Because if it was going to keep them from returning, the least it could do was function enough to keep the soldiers safe inside.

When at last they breeched the wall of the cave and stepped out into the full force of the wind, Jyn stumbled a bit at the sheer force of the unexpected gales. Whatever gusts that had tunneled in through the cave were only a fraction of the unrelenting blast that awaited them outside. 

Jyn righted herself and hoisted a grimacing Cassian higher around her neck, stumbling forward a few more steps as she readied to duck out from under him to get him aboard her ship. Her legs were beginning to shake beneath her from the strenuous effort of bearing another's weight for too long on so much blood loss, so she did her best to ignore it by letting her mind distract her. Unfortunately it went to places she'd also been avoiding: this impending separation. After the last few rejections with which Cassian had snubbed her affections, she was not confident she had any "goodbyes" in her. So they would have to settle for a nod or a handshake.

She made it about two more steps when suddenly the pressure around her neck almost had her collapsing. Then she felt herself spinning. Cassian had taken all of his weight back onto his left leg and used his arm around Jyn's neck to flip her up and around him. His other hand had snuck into hers and seized her stolen blaster before he sent her somersaulting over his shoulder. 

Jyn went sprawling behind the protection of his back and into the snow—the wind punched from her lungs—as he whirled around, two blasters at the ready, and screamed, "Jecht, now!”

One of Drakkar's troopers threw off his helmet and turned on his squadron. Brandishing a blaster rifle of his own was…Jecht Sepsom? That was the name Cassian had called, and now it was the man battling Drakkar's army in tandem with his captain. Whatever bomb Drakkar had allegedly shoved down his throat clearly did not detonate, unless the man had been lying all together, which seemed the more likely option.

Cassian, damn him, knew exactly how to flip Jyn so her lungs stalled—they’d spared enough for the move to almost have been second nature at this point. It was cheap, and he knew it. 

If this was his effort to keep her out of the melee, he was sorely mistaken. Without any hesitation, Jyn rolled back onto her stomach so she was in position to get her legs under her, watching with mingled horror and utter rage as a stubborn Cassian limped and fought on his good leg while Jecht covered his flanks. 

Jyn needed to help them. And she needed to do it now. Because this was a rescue mission dammit. And two of the four men from a-G74 were still alive and loyal.

Since Cassian had stolen her second weapon and Drakkar had stolen her first, she’d need to loot a trooper’s body for a loaded blaster. One of the men Jecht took down a few feet away crashed unceremoniously to the snow and hadn’t moved for several seconds. There was no telling if he was dead, unconscious, or merely stunned, but it was her most inviting option so far. 

Now or never. Jyn launched herself forward, keeping her center of gravity low to avoid the cross-blasts of the battle before her. With a fettered hand, she yanked the pistol from the inert fingers of the felled imperial soldier. It was no rifle, but it could shoot, and that was all she needed.

A trooper had followed her over and was just behind her when Jyn shoved her heel into his shin and swung her other leg around to catch him in the ribs and topple him.

Whirling to face the mass, Jyn’s bangs flew in her eyes but did little to impede the flight of a blaster shot to the armor of another trooper.

Some of the soldiers did not have trooper armor—men Drakkar must have recruited. She could only hope they were not also Rebel deserters.

Jecht was crouched behind the half-buried wing of Echo ship F-0490—evidence of his forehead emerged from behind the protection of the steel every now and then when he fired more blasts.

Jyn charged another trooper that had taken aim at Sepsom’s location—posed waiting for him to surface again. Before he got the chance, she sent the barrel of her blaster into his helmet and threw her other elbow down against the top of his skull so he slumped in half beneath her.

And then her heart stopped. The familiar cry she feared so much rang out behind her, and she had turned in frantic search of Cassian before her brain could even register the cry of utter agony as his.

Drakkar had knocked him in the leg again, even though Cassian had turned his right side away from his opponent, bearing only his left like a boxer. Somehow, the man had managed to skirt around his captain and catch him exposed—very unusual for Cassian.

They had done away with their guns in favor of this hand combat. Jyn took aim at Drakkar’s chest but delayed out of fear of hitting Cassian. If K2 had been here, he would have made all the calculations right that guaranteed Drakkar would not win this fight.

But the droid had been terminated by Imperial soldiers. Just as Bodhi, Baze, Chirrut, and the rest of Rogue One had. Suddenly she blamed Drakkar for their deaths and her finger squeezed the trigger.

Just before the blast could dislodge from her barrel, the glow of another blaster collided with her shoulder and her shot went awry somewhere into the night. Jyn jerked backwards, fire flaring up under her parka as the now-exposed skin sizzled in the cold.

“Jyn!” Jecht popped up from his cover and shot the trooper responsible before leaping over the wing to join her side.

She had sunk to her knees in the snow, heedless of the cold. But at the sound of Sepsom’s cry, Cassian’s head whipped around, lips parted and eyes wide and distracted as they searched for Jyn. 

She had since raised her blaster once more. But Cassian’s momentary lapse of attention to his opponent earned him a fist to his jaw and a kick to his broken ribs. He fell back onto his fractured leg without thinking, yelping in pain.

Jyn let out a feral cry just as Jecht reached her side and fired a peppering of blasts into the last few soldiers before turning her aim to Drakkar’s back, unloading whatever clip remained in this trooper’s pistol. The man jolted after each one, back smoking, before he careened into his old captain and took them both down. 

“Oh gods, Jyn.” Jecht dropped his gun and shucked a layer of armor so he could bend more easily. “Let me see.” he unstuck her fingers from the wound and suppressed a grimace when they came back red and tacky. Her wound smoked into the night.

But Jyn wasn’t watching Jecht. She waited with bated breath as Drakkar’s body began to move. Thrusting her gun up once more, she readied another trigger before the body of the betrayer rolled to the side and Cassian sat up, face white and mouth panting. Blood sponged his face and colored his lips red. 

Jyn could have cried with relief, but instead settled for a few unshed tears of pain because kriff did her shoulder hurt. She squeezed her eyes shut and let out a humorless laugh. They’d made it. 

She only opened her eyes when she heard the crunching and dragging of snow. Her lids parted to see an anxious Cassian limping over to where she and Jecht knelt. 

Jyn felt her weight fall back on her ankles, still on her knees, but utterly exhausted. Whatever adrenaline had been fueling her this entire time was gone now. 

Jecht was busy prodding at her wound with steady fingers when Cassian dropped in next to him, face pained but betraying nothing else.

“It’s not that deep,” Jecht assured whoever was listening. “The blast must’ve come from an angle. We’d be in much deeper waters if Jyn had been standing in front of whoever shot her.”

Paying no mind to his own injuries, Cassian made for Jyn’s blaster wound like he meant to treat it. Jyn couldn’t believe his nerve right now and tried to wave him off. But that didn’t stop his hand from grabbing a fistful of snow and pressing it to Jyn’s shoulder—or the concern clouding his gaze as he did so.

“Auhnnn!” She growled, slamming her eyes shut again and trying to pull away from Cassian’s angry touch. But Jecht’s hand was behind her in an instant, holding her steady. 

Jyn wasn’t in the mood to fight Cassian about his condition. Because she would only be met with retaliations for her “suicidal actions” back in the cave. Neither apparently wanted to acknowledge the other at the moment. But she dared the pot to call the kettle black.

“And her leg?” Cassian’s voice was rough. But his words were clear.

“I’m no doctor,” Jecht prepped, “but I don’t think that much blood is supposed to leave your body. You got a bandage or something? Or wait—hold up.”

Fabric tore with great stiffness from the cold, but suddenly hands that could have only been Cassian’s were securing the make-shift bandage around her leg. She was surprisingly level-headed still. But didn’t want to stick around to feel the effects of blood loss combined with cold weather.

A lighter, yet equally insistent pressure at her bloodied cheek made her flinch. But when the source murmured a soft apology, Jyn realized Cassian was just working a corner of fabric over her skin to remove the blood and assess her wound. Another layer of ice melted over her hot cheek and, oh, did it feel like the most painful divinity she didn’t know was even possible.

“Keep pressure—there,” Cassian advised Jecht in his accented grumble, covering his hand over her shoulder with that of the old general. “And watch her leg—doesn’t soak through—that bandage.” Behind closed lids, Jyn could hear him speaking between careful, shallow breaths in a way she did not like. Almost imperceptibly, she cursed herself for not noticing it earlier. What was the captain hiding with his intelligence training? “I am—going aboard—to see if I can—start this—this thing—up.”

“Hey.” Jyn cracked her eyes open to land a grip against his shoulder, ignoring the way her own shoulder screamed at the movement. Cassian stopped. “You sound terrible. You’re not going anywhere until you let Jecht or me take a look at you.”

His eyes trained on her shoulder again and a slow hand removed hers from his arm and set it back in her lap where he knew it wouldn’t hurt. “I’m fine,” he responded gruffly. “And you’ve—done enough.”

Her jaw tipped open at the acidity of his last remark, but he didn’t relent. Before she could exert anymore persuasion, Cassian had vanished and was limping up the loading deck of her F-0490 Corvette. Jecht watched her with a careful gaze.

“Drakkar told us you were dead,” she revealed after a few swollen breaths had passed between them. 

Jecht actually smiled. “You think that tater-tot can fell this old general?” Jyn puffed a laugh, but couldn’t hide her relief very well. “Lemme tell you something, sweetheart,” he shifted, “it will take a lot more than one bad apple to rot me.”

“No offense,” she started, regretting even starting at all now that the words were coming out of her mouth. Oh well, no sense protecting his pride now. “I never thought I’d be able to say I’m happy to see you.”

Jecht hooted. “Ain’t that a bitch!"

Jyn needed to try another angle. “You saved our lives,” she thanked him in all seriousness. 

That sobered him quickly. Sepsom shrugged. “I’ve saved a lot of lives. I’ve taken even more of them. It seems the only thing I haven’t done is just…enjoyed the sidelines—lived a life, y’know?” He collected another small handful of snow and cupped Jyn’s own hand around it before bringing it to hold against her red cheek.

Jyn put a comforting hand—the one not holding ice to her cheek—against his arm. “I think you’ve earned yourself a bit of bench time after this,” she agreed. 

His lips quirked. “We’re not out of the woods, yet, Erso,” he reminded her. “But you can bet your blaster-fried ass that I’m headed straight for retirement as soon as the last damn tree is behind us.” The thin air was finally beginning to tug at her warmth and the onslaught of shivers crept inside the notches of her spine in the smallest of ice coils.

Behind them, the engine droned to life just on time. It had taken Cassian an impressive short time to get the decommissioned ship back in order, especially at night—especially at night, on Hoth. 

"Let’s get out of this meat locker before my balls shrivel up,” Jecht’s voice inflected with impatience. It was true, though. Jyn worried the warm blood on her face had crystalized in the cold outside and sealed a few fingers over the split to imbibe some warmth into it—maybe get it to melt before a certain someone pined over her latest injury instead of tending to his own. 

As Jecht helped her up, Jyn noticed that he sported his own blaster wound to his hip, and another at the armor over his knee that she’d failed to notice earlier. While they didn’t seem to bother him much, she made a mental note to make sure he got a bacta patch as well if there were enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like Jecht! He's an OC rebel, but he's been lots of fun to write because he keeps things light. We'll be seeing more of him later, but for now, we need to deal with this Battle of Hoth.
> 
> Next update: we'll find out just how deep of waters our characters are in when injuries start to have consequences and their point of refuge on Hoth is under siege.
> 
> Looking forward to your delicious feedback!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey lovelies! Sorry for late update-I'm traveling and don't have stable wifi, but finally found some and decided to get this chapter up even though it's well after midnight here. More troubles lie ahead! It's out of the frying pan and into the fire because wounds wreak havoc when ignored and Hoth is currently under siege. Enjoy :)

At the dashboard sat a rigid captain, a headset snug over his ears and his other hand working the knobs overhead. “Transmissions are—sticky—out here,” he spoke between breaths to the windshield, but Jecht and Jyn shared a knowing look. Cassian pressed his other hand into the receiver as if to dig the reception deeper into his ear. “Almost sounds like…Imperials have—already breeched—the shield.”

Jyn was at his side in an instant, but when she didn’t sit down in the copilot seat, Cassian looked up. If Jyn could’ve gasped, she would have—but she knew her partner better than to betray her emotions at his state.

Cassian’s lips were still parted as he tugged in air, giving Jyn a merciless view of the blood staining the insides of his lips. She’d hoped he had just bitten them in pain, but at this proximity, she realized: Cassian had punctured a lung. The careful way in which he lifted his chest to draw air was clue enough.

“Alright. Get out of the chair,” Jyn commanded. 

One of Cassian’s eyebrows leveled up a fraction, the other falling deeper over his eye. “Excuse me?”

Her hand strayed to the dashboard in efforts to distract herself from looking at him. She pressed what she knew by way of showing him she was taking over, effective immediately. 

“You’ve punctured your lung, your leg is broken, there is a chance you have a concussion, and almost two hours ago you were lying dead under a snow drift.” When the last switch she recognized was flipped, Jyn managed to face him, lips drawn into a tight line. “Need I go on?” 

Damn the waver in her voice.

Jecht was slowly peeling off his layers of trooper armor before assuming a position as co-pilot. The screeching of the loading doors warned Jyn of the pressure sealant that would pop their ears in a moment as they prepared for take-off. There was a hesitance to Jecht’s movement that accompanied one whose presence was just a little untimely. 

Regardless, Jyn was thankful for his input. “She’s right, Cap,” he finished with the dashboard controls that Jyn had started. In all fairness, he should've been piloting this vessel, not Jyn. But Jyn needed to pilot Cassian out of his seat and over to a proper medkit, so he was just going to have to wait. “Draven will have both our asses if you report back as irreparable and unfit for duty.” He laughed once. “Trust me, I’ve been there."

Crossing her arms, Jyn waited until Cassian nodded and slipped his headset down around his neck before hinging it off and back into the comlink receiver. He may have been stubborn, self-deprecating, and, yes, a little masochistic at times for the sake of protecting others, but Cassian was not unreasonable. 

Saving him the blow to his pride, Jyn helped him up before he was forced to ask and shepherded him over to the cargo bench just at the back where the medkits were waiting. This ship didn’t have much of a medley, but it would have to suffice until they touched back down somewhere with more resources. 

He dangled from her good shoulder until they hovered just over the bench, but when she went to deposit him onto it, he pulled her down with him.

Jyn sighed and was about to open her mouth when a hard look from Cassian told her to bite her tongue. It was difficult, but it was not difficult to guess why—her shoulder was still oozing dark blood onto her parka despite being cauterized by the blaster blow. And her leg was still slowly pulsing into numbness.

When Jyn attempted to peel back the layers of parka that had burned into her skin so she could glimpse better how much damage had been done, she couldn’t suppress the keen of pain that tickled the back of her throat. 

Cassian’s gentle hands replaced hers in an instant. “Let me,” he murmured. 

His concentrated gaze fell on the gaping shoulder wound before him as he stripped open a bacta patch with his teeth. Nothing could've prepared her for the sting of the serum connecting with her tissue—except maybe the gentle, calloused hands kneading it over her wound so that it sealed. 

“Gah!” she cried out as he worked the last air bubble out. “Son of a bantha!” Her words squeezed between the tight spaces of her clenched teeth.

Cassian offered comforting words that she barely heard—either because they were in Festian, or because she chose only to listen to the cadence of his voice instead of whatever sounds his voice was making. Although his labored breathing seemed to be reversing whatever calming effects his voice was having on her.

A steamed punch of fabric drew her eyes down to the hunk of cloth Cassian had stripped from his uniform underneath his parka. Jyn tipped her head back, anticipating the burn of pressure. When at last he’d secured his bit of cloth around the bacta patch, Cassian got to work on her leg. 

The steady pant issuing from his lips made her try to knock away his hands, but her captain cast her a stern glare. 

“Cassian,” she swallowed, “you can’t ignore your injuries treating mine.”

He had tried to start working again, pulling out another bacta patch while she was speaking but Jyn caught his wrist. “Hey,” she could feel her brow pinch. “I’m serious.”

Something in his face softened, but his resolve did not. “Jyn—you took a blade—to your thigh and it almost—almost severed—your femoral. You first—then me—promise.”

When Jyn didn’t respond, he returned his attention to her leg, cutting into the fabric with a field knife to expose the injured area. At this proximity and visibility, Jyn almost felt nauseous. The knife had torn through her muscle so her blood pooled inside the tear. Some of it leaked out while Cassian inspected the wound and Jyn had to sit back and squeeze her eyes shut to purge the image and the pain. It hurt so much more looking at it.

But she couldn’t help herself, and her eyes found the dark, glistening slice once more.

“Hey—don’t look at it.” Cassian’s attention was still on her leg, but his eyes flicked towards hers every now and then. “Just look—at me.”

A pile of gauze began collecting red as he cleaned her wound to be disinfected and bandaged. Again, pain spiked her veins with sharp agony when the antibacterial was poured over the wound and Jyn bit her lip until she drew blood. 

A soft litany of Festian apologies came from Cassian’s lips, but his face was focused. The pain numbed to a throb as he cautiously wrapped something tight around the area. The next time she looked down, a bacta-infused bandage had wound its way around the wound so only a little red poked through. Her pseudo-medic finally sat back, a satisfied expression flexing through his still-worried features.

However, as soon as her wounds were taken care of, Jyn revived herself in time to notice his eyes fall to half mast and the muscles in his jaw slacken as he hinged for air. 

Ignoring the pain in her shoulder, Jyn reached out and stabilized his neck with her hands just before he could fall back against the wall of their ship. 

“Hey,” she tensed around him. “Force. Cassian, I need your focus, yeah?” 

He nodded deftly between her hands but didn’t look like he understood very well—only enough to pick up on the lilt of a yes or no question and take a shot in the dark as to which answer Jyn was looking for. Bastard. Only Cassian would find the adrenaline to take care of everyone else besides himself.

Without wasting another moment, Jyn unlatched the medkit and began to rummage through its innards, tossing to the floor whatever she knew they didn’t need to make more room. She’d deal with the mess later.

Finally she was able to locate the bone-knitter and bacta patches. Jyn worked quickly, easing Cassian out of his parka and working the leg of his pants up around his knee that had taken to some serious edema in the last twenty minutes. He should not have been limping on it.

But she tried not to let it concern her too much that he’d stopped flinching in pain. Either he was numb, which meant possible spinal damage, or the exhaustion from the extent of his wounds was just now starting to wear on him and pillage whatever nerve he had left to pull away from Jyn’s swift hands.

She gently hooked the bone-knitter up around where the swelling was greatest and the skin was stark red—assuming that was where the break was. Even if she was off by a mere inch or so, the electronic pulses should contain a radius wide enough for damage control at the very least.

Their ship finally jolted from the snow. Jecht must have managed to plunge their vessel out of the drift Jyn had anchored them to. It gave her little joy to know wherever they were headed, it was either freezing and isolated, or there was more fighting. Assuming the former meant their battery would die before they could make it back to Echo base. But what would be left at Echo base if they did make it back?

Using the spray-splint, Jyn managed to secure her apparatus and ensure his bones could be welded back together. A make-shift cast spiraled into view as she worked, pressure building and substance cooling to help move the swelling and coagulants away from the fracture to restore blood flow. 

The cast came equipped with a hinge at the knee. What could she say? This device was meant for soldiers. Whatever engineer had fashioned this device clearly knew it would do more harm to a soldier’s safety to construct a rigid cast that kept them from bending their leg and running. This was field medicine. Not behind the lines, medical-tent medicine. Soldiers still needed full use of their legs even when broken. Not that that was much comfort.

Once his leg was braced to her satisfaction, Jyn turned toward her more pressing task, but the one she’d frankly been avoiding: healing Cassian’s punctured lung.

“Cassian,” Jyn probed as she flitted around inside the medkit. “Cassian I need you to talk to me.” Her ribs felt tight around her own lungs, like there was no cavity for her heart anymore. "What are you thinking? Tell me something—anything. Just stay awake.”

“—yn,” his words jumbled in his mouth, but Jyn could recognize her name on Cassian’s tongue any day. 

“That’s it, Cassian,” she applauded him, hands still fishing for the hypospray. “Gotcha,” she celebrated privately as soon as the little syringe appeared in the corner of the medkit. Forgoing all thoughts of her lack of medical training, Jyn slipped the bacta patch between her teeth and ripped into it with gusto until the shining blue liquid trickled from the top. 

When he rattled for a breath, she caught herself from stopping. Nothing she could do would help him right now except treating him with the resources at their disposal and pray that he was strong enough to hold on. But Jyn never doubted the captain’s will. 

As she began dumping the bacta into the hypospray, she couldn’t stop the nagging doubt pressing too hard against her temples. Bacta was just stimulating microbes for healing right? Surely it wouldn’t be dangerous to accelerate the process by which they reached the site. 

“My fault,” Cassian wheezed softly. A weak hand reached out and plucked at her sleeve. “‘M sorry.”

That arrested her. “What?” she breathed.

“Rogue One,” he admitted. “Landing us—here. Ev’rything.”

Us.

“Cassian,” she slipped her hand into his and pressed against the familiar callouses that padded his palms—the rough, thick skin that told every story and battle of his youth. “You have to know it goes both ways.” She shook her head. “You’re not the only one who will follow their comrade even when things get tough.” 

The memory of Cassian refusing to leave her on Jedha; of climbing up to that platform to save her on Eadu; and again to save her on Scarif; of him amalgamating Rogue One for her even after the council back on Yavin 4 denied her mission to recover the plans splotched in broken memories. 

Welcome home.

“When I said—that—you were not—the only one—who’d—who’d lost—everything,” Cassian’s eyes had slipped back into focus. He opened his mouth in his struggle to speak, displaying the blood on his lips again. “I lied,” he looked like he wanted to sit up, but Jyn’s hand on his shoulder was firm and unrelenting. “I lied,” he repeated quickly like she needed to hear this.

She was just about to ask him what he meant when a thin line of blood traced from his lips and down his chin. 

“Kriff almighty,” Jyn breathed, catching him against her good shoulder before he could slump to the unrelenting floor of their ship. His dead weight against her sent her heart into panicked overdrive—this was wrong, no, no, no, this was supposed to be her in a ship with Drakkar, Cassian and Jecht safely back at Hoth. Not this.

“Cassian, dammit,” she ordered. “Wake up.”

There was still the bacta to be hyposprayed that she’d momentarily misplaced in her lapse. When the rest of the blue liquid emptied into the syringe, Jyn balanced Cassian so she was in the right angle to plunge the needle where it needed to go.

With her teeth, Jyn yanked the needle capper off and wasted no time in sticking her captain…right over the vein in his arm.

“Jyn!” Jecht called from the cockpit.

“‘M a l’ttle b’sy, here!” She shouted back around the cap between her teeth. 

“Jyn, we’ve got company!”

The cap went flying from her mouth. “Shake ‘em!” She shouted back as she frantically prepared another dose of bacta. Gods she hoped she wasn’t just killing him faster.

Just then their ship rolled and Jyn went crashing into an unconscious Cassian. It was probably better he was not awake to feel the full weight of her body jostling his already-broken ribs. 

Jecht overcorrected and their vessel careened back the other way—but Jyn was prepared to receive Cassian’s weight.

“Force, Jecht!”

“You wanna try?! We’ve got TIE fighters all over our asses!”

For safety, Jyn shoved Cassian back against the wall of the ship with the edge of her forearm banded across his torso and laced the x-buckle over his healing chest, securing them in their buckles so he sat snugly against the ship. If they were to continue tipping, Jyn needed to make sure Cassian was not at risk of hurting himself.

She plunged in the second dose of bacta over his other lung. Which lung was punctured, she had no clue. But assuming she conducted CPR correctly, both sets of ribs should be broken, so it didn’t matter which side the bacta went in. 

A blast knocked into the starboard side and sent Jyn flying into the rear controls. Thankfully Cassian’s harness kept him fenced to the wall, but the motion strained him against the bands. The stern guns were definitely out of ammo. With any luck, though, their presence might still put-off their attackers. 

“Mind getting on a gun, back there?!” Jecht’s voice was almost lost amidst the crunch of metal as a fighter side swiped their cargo hatch.

“Got any ammo on you!?”

“Shit!” Perhaps Jyn should have tried piloting. At least then Jecht wouldn’t be around to make his snide, unhelpful comments.

“I’m going to have to take us down! There’s an evacuation tunnel under sector thirteen around here somewhere. Chances are—Kriff!—Bloody bastards!”

The front guns certainly had ammo in them, Jyn noted duly as she prepared her final hypospray of stimulant this time, not bacta. Cassian needed to be out of it long enough for his punctured lung to heal, but before being under for too long that it prevented him from ever coming back up again.

Lasers out the front of their appropriated Corvette-derivative blasted a hole through a TIE fighter that had barrel rolled into their trajectory. 

“Chances are the gates to the main base have been shut and sealed,” Jecht finally found the attention to continue once the TIE fighter was spinning and smoking down onto Hoth. “But we should still be able to navigate between sectors underground. And, if nothing else, at least we’ll have shelter until we can get a signal out to the Alliance!”

“Time to put your satellites to the test, eh Sepsom?” Jyn bantered without humor.

“Or perhaps your hacking!” He fired right back. “I can’t access the transmissions without an access code, you know. Someone firewalled all of the dishes!”

Jyn rolled her eyes and braced herself from being thrown as the ship tipped again in effort to shake its tails. Once they landed, they’d have to make a run for cover before their ship could be blown up with them still inside. Jecht would have to park them under the hood of a glacier that could hold long enough to shelter them until they found the entrance to the evacuation systems. 

Snow and ice would melt quickly under the heat of blasters and lasers. But it was the best shot they had. And if they were going to make it, Jyn couldn’t be lugging Cassian’s weight around. For the sake of his life, and for hers, they were going to have to rouse him and try out his new cast.

“Rise and shine, Cassian,” she muttered, mentally crossing every finger and appendage she had that the bacta and stimulant would do the trick. 

Not only would being stuck with Jecht for Force knows how long driver her completely insane, but life without Cassian was not one she could mentally comprehend right now, or perhaps, ever. She needed her captain back. With the needle tip aimed into the dense muscle of his shoulder, Jyn stuck him and plunged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the amazing feedback and support you've been giving me!! Your comments really keep me going :)
> 
> Next update: we have some confrontations that need to happen and some holes that need filled! Juicy stuff ahead (riddled with angst of course--you know me by now, I try and always deliver on the angst)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey all! Happy belated International Cat Day! (I'm def a dog person, but I have a cat and he's aight). Idk about you, but August feels like the Sunday of Summer. Anyway, please enjoy the latest installment to our story! It's a little shorter this time because the NEXT installment is kinda, like, super long.
> 
> Our rebels have found temporary sanctuary in a tunnel on Hoth. But they're surrounded by Imperials. How long can they wait for help to arrive before they're detected? Better yet, how long can Jyn avoid Cassian? Answer to both: not long.

A red glow strobed over the confines of their dingy hallway camp, casting bloody light over the ridge of Jyn’s cheekbones in uncomfortable pulses. It always made Jyn shudder—the way the alarm lights seemed to insinuate a breathing and bleeding life beneath the metal and cement of their barricaded sanctuary.

At least the lights were silent. When they had first arrived, the matching blare of sirens matched each thready flare until Jyn had managed to stumble over to the perimeter security monitor and punch a few buttons to silence their screech. Unfortunately, she didn’t know the codes to the heartbeat that seemed to keep their little tunnel system glowing red like breathing embers.

It seemed the back-up generators were a bit out of kilter at the moment, because they were not responding to Jyn’s hacking in her attempts to both quiet the lights as well as ignite the radiators that Rieekan had installed at all of the door jams in the instance of some invasion or mutiny of the base like this one were to happen.

Now that this situation was here, the damn installations weren’t even doing their jobs. And everyone who was stranded in this force-for-saken evacuation tunnel had the great pleasure of freezing their arses off because of it—which did little to help morale, let alone moods.

And, as if to make matters worse, the spiteful red of the lights provided nothing in the way of heat to their hide-away, despite ensnaring every characteristic of warmth in color and mockery of blood. 

Jyn watched spitefully as her lips surrendered warm, curling breath to the frigid Hoth air around her in time with the pulsing alarm lights. She had at least two more hours of watch before Lavidean Slahlvo was to relieve her of duty for the night shift. 

Slahlvo was ex-military—decommissioned warrant lieutenant—but his eyes still bore the stretch-marks of one who’d seen too much too fast. Even though he insisted upon his status as retired from duty, Jyn couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that it was up to the war to leave him, not the other way around. 

She snugged her hands in her armpits to warm them and hunkered back against the external door that they kept closed except when changing guard. It had been all quiet at her end. 

If they could just get the comlinks to function, she’d be able to check in with the sentinel down at the opposite end of the tunnel. But her abilities were only as developed as her few months at Echo had allowed.

Be that as it were, whatever news Maxim Jerikko had down at his end would remain a mystery until they both reported back to Major Rosado. 

Jerikko had almost made it as corporal. But one bad blaster to the knee that even bacta couldn’t fix and suddenly he was stitching wounds in his spare time as the field medic instead of being stitched-up, himself. All things considered, though, Jyn selfishly thought that they were lucky to have someone with at least some medical know-how trapped in this evacuation tunnel with their rag-tag battalion of refugees. 

As for Rosado, well, Jyn could taste the iron from all the blood he’d probably had on his hands. That man most likely caused more death than he’d seen. But when your stripes ranked you so high, the system had you calling the shots instead of carrying them out. Whatever guilt he carried under his thick beard that hid the cherry curve of his mouth, it made him a little more than disagreeably. Rosado’s stained conscience made him downright brutal—callous and unrelenting like the scar tissue that took the place of fingerprints—that took the place of identity.

As much as she feared Rosado, she knew that Cassian’s feelings toward his “superior” were far more prickly. Sure, he respected the guy. Cassian respected the rebellion, his title, and his mission too much to upset the system. But Jyn couldn’t help but question the system that declared a man like Rosado—who only outranked Cassian by one tier—to hold the fate of their refugee camp in his hands. 

Cassian was a better man by far. But Jyn was only a sergeant. And currently playing sentinel for the evacuation sewers they found beneath the permafrost of Hoth. As it turned out, several other members of Echo base had gotten the same idea that Sepsom had figured when they had been flying their failing corvette over the tundra toward ground-zero of the Empire attack on the base. 

It had been a good plan at the time. Cassian, Jyn, and Sepsom had all abandoned ship as soon as it reached snow, just before they could slide into the glacier wall and go up in flames with it. 

Jyn had thought the leg brace she made for Cassian was going to hold up. And he let her believe so, too. At least, until they stumbled through the doors of the evacuation sewers and he sprawled onto the frozen cement, his tanned face gray and pale. 

Jyn had managed to ease his fall before he could break his wrists while Jecht covered them until they could get out of the line of fire far enough to turn around and bolt the steel door. 

The cast had gotten them to safety—that was all she’d asked for and that was what she got. Jecht slid under Cassian’s other arm and together the three moved as quickly as they could with their injured captain slung between them. They'd hadn’t made it twenty meters before Rosado’s men were upon them. 

Rhane, Jyn’s old security officer, had a Virbroblade sword aimed at Jecht’s jugular and Elix Yalthick’s blaster was wedged between Jyn’s shoulder blades. 

A familiar voice had squeaked, “Jyn?”

“Tav!”

Rosado had given the stand-down as her friend broke line and rushed to take Jyn’s place from underneath Cassian. When she shook her head, Tavion had settled for a tackling hug instead.

As it turned out, Jecht, Jyn, and Cassian had stumbled upon a secret stronghold underground that had apparently amassed after the Empire blew Echo’s last few hangars, blowing up every way off this planet. Luckily a few people like Yalthick, cargo security officer, and Jerikko, field medic, knew the ins and outs of the storage units at the base for supply raids as well as how to ration nutrition in a way that maximized utility, respectively.

What was more, Rieekan had stationed emergency medbays at all major exits of the base in case stranded personnel needed quick access to resources. It was no state-of-the-art hospital, but it had proved better than the sad excuse for treatment Cassian had received courtesy of their corvette’s medkit and Jyn’s shitty handiwork.

Jerikko had re-casted Cassian’s leg and applied another dose of bone-knitting and bacta treatment. At the disclosure of Jecht and the ordering of Cassian, the poor field medic had also been ushered over to treat Jyn’s shoulder wound. 

But even after two and half weeks of recovery and surveillance, the tightness in her shoulder had only dulled to a numb throb. And she could tell Cassian’s leg was still bothering him, too—the way he would try to hide his limp made Jyn grit her teeth. 

She’d been avoiding him. It would’ve been hard enough if she’d have to face him eventually for kissing him. But leave it to Cassian to make it even worse because he had, once again, forgotten that trust went both ways. His damned pride had almost gotten both—Force, all three—of them killed.

Yes, they were all still alive, but it was a risk that K2SO would have strongly advised against taking if he’d been here. And maybe Cassian would have listened. Because he sure as hell didn’t listen to her. And her plan would’ve worked.

Coupled together, the two game-changers earned Cassian a lot of silence from his sergeant. She indulged her stubbornness imparted to her courtesy of her father and kept a good forty paces between herself and Cassian. The rejection and lack of trust were so much heavier than any silence or distance offered. 

At night, Jyn had been sleeping in secluded areas so no one could hear her when the night terrors came. The last thing she wanted was for Cassian to resume his position and think anything had changed. Because it hadn’t. The bombshell of her father still being alive kept her from straying far from her pride.

She was tired of being fooled—tired of being manipulated. Sure, his intentions may have been pure at the time—getting them off that balcony on Eadu where most of her other comrades would have left her for dead, but she still couldn’t shake the guilt she felt from leaving her father still alive up there. She could have saved him. He could be with her now and they could’ve left this war behind them.

She swore to herself she’d go after her father as soon as she had the means. For now, they were stuck in this state of teetering refuge on a planet she’d really grown to hate.

Suddenly, the door opened behind her. Jyn glanced down at her chronos to double check that it was early. 0107 blinked back at her.

“I’m not due to report back until 0200, soldier,” Jyn sighed and rolled her eyes.

There were a few more ticks of silence than Jyn was comfortable with. And she almost turned around to make sure the door hadn’t glitched when a voice finally broke the air. 

“I know.”

She knew that accent. Festian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Reviews keep my story in tune! So help it hit all the right keys :)
> 
> Next update: Romantic angst culminates (finally!). Let's give these two the love-story they deserve (complete with lots of fiery rebel arguments and emotions because, let's face it, neither Jyn nor Cassian are good with words). Extra long chapter for you next time! So be sure to tune in. 
> 
> And thank you, thank you, thank you to all who have left Kudos and Comments!! You guys are what really keep these updates coming :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, squad! Here is the latest installment to our story-extra long chapter just for all of you! It does get a little spicy in this chapter, but nothing explicit. Also, side note: this is the final calm before the storm!

Without telling them to, Jyn felt her muscles tense, but she didn’t turn around. “Can I help you, Capt—Cassian?” she corrected, reminding herself that he didn’t appreciate the title, even if her goal of formality was to maintain her self-preservation act. Even if she still couldn’t help the clench of her heart.

But she knew he'd caught her slip-up. Hell, he’d probably have caught her hesitation if she'd managed to redirect herself in time, let alone her blurting half the word. So when the warmth of his presence became obvious at her chilled side as she stood guard, she knew he wasn’t going to dignify that with an answer.

Instead the two just stared over the little ice ledge that offered them espionage into the tundra of Hoth. The sentinel posts were more like trenches, with little slits for viewports that leveled the guards' eyes with the snowy sea-level. 

But Jyn was more thankful for the cover from the elements than from whatever eyes weren’t looking for them right now. Because damn was it cold—the trenches kept the wind and snow out for the most part and did minimally aid in insulation. Still, it was Hoth…at night. Insulation and cover only went so far. It was why sentinel shifts shortened at night. If the suns were up, Jyn would’ve had at least four to six more hours of duty…not two.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Cassian didn’t beat around the bush. But Jyn didn’t expect him to. “Quite well, I might add.”

She could only see the shadowy outline of his figure against the snow in the blurry periphery of her vision. But his breath she could see, crystalizing white as soon as it hit the subzero air. 

“And you give shitty compliments,” she droned.

“Jyn.” She could hear the frown on his face. 

Just with the tone of voice he used, Jyn knew what he wanted. But she wasn’t going to give in that easily.

She shrugged. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Yes, I’m avoiding you?”

“Humor me.”

For a few seconds, she just watched their breathing sync up—going from alternate puffs of white, to matching sets. For kriff’s sake. No matter how hard she tried, he was a magnet to her.

“I’ve said it once already, Cassian.” She shook her head. “That first day we met—just before Jedha.”

When he didn’t fill in the blank, she cut her losses. 

“'Trust goes both ways,’” she quoted. 

Cassian exhaled beside her and looked down at his feet. “Jyn, I trust you with my life—there’s no one else I trust more in this galaxy. You have to know that."

She finally rounded on him. “Do I?”

If he startled he didn’t show it. If he’d been expecting that, she’d punch him in the teeth. 

From where she stood at this proximity, Cassian was more visible to Jyn than he had been for almost three weeks. She’d forgotten what it felt like to be close to him, to feel that gravity he had over her. And with that, came the remembrance as to why she had been avoiding him in the first place. Because Jyn had to actively remind herself not to react—Intelligence officers were scary good at reading people. And if she wasn’t careful, her shock at his healthy appearance would have been in huge black font for him.

His dark hair had a healthy luster to it that had always been hidden behind layers of grime or dust. No doubt that was courtesy of one of their two sonic showers they had on site. Their camp hadn’t seen real water for bathing since…well, since they landed here on Hoth. Water usually froze in the pipes. They had to melt the snow for drinking. 

But it lifted at his hairline before falling back towards his furrowed brow with tousled comb streaks still giving it an inviting texture.

His pressed utility pilot uniform for winter that captains wore when at ease around base framed his much-perked stature. While she was partial to his trademark Festian blue parka, this airman rebellion get-up would’ve had a lesser-trained girl more tongue-tied, especially with how his muscles underneath pressed lines into the fabric.

And he had recently shaven, leaving his shadow of scruff well defined. In all manners of the word, he was sharp—a trait she didn’t typically assign to her Captain. But it suited him almost too well. 

If she didn’t keep talking, then she might never again while he was here to distract her. So she forged on, playing off her pause as waiting for him to answer. Since he didn’t, she took that as her cue to elaborate.

“Was it ‘trust’ when you basically disposed of me so you and Jecht could play ‘revenge' on your rogue soldier instead of believing that I could’ve gotten you out—that I could’ve saved you? Was it ‘trust’ that made you tell me to abandon my father on Eadu even though he was still alive, or that tried to make me leave you behind when I found you in that cave?"

“My relations with my squadron are not your affair.” His voice was too calm. “As for your father—”

“You almost died trying to get us out of there, Cassian! That makes it my affair! When I could have ensured that risk was never there.”

It was Cassian’s turn to face her, eyes wild, accent thick. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!"

"You have a right messed up way of demonstrating trust to your soldiers, Cassian!”

This time he seized her shoulders so his fingers dug hard through her parka. “I trust you, Jyn! I trust you!” All calm lost. He must’ve realized what line he’d just crossed and released her slowly. “How can—after all we’ve been through—how can you even question...It’s me I don’t trust.” 

The pace of his words had slowed so much, Jyn had to replay them in her head a few times at a faster speed to stop the whiplash from snapping her wits.

He took a step back. Jyn wished he’d hadn’t. 

“…What?” 

He wetted his lips and stabilized himself with a thin breath. “Do you ever wonder why I told you your father was gone that night on Eadu?”

Jyn huffed, the air tight in her lungs. “I’m not sure I want to.”

She noticed him stiffen just a fraction beside her. “You remember when I told you—back on the corvette, as we were escaping—you were treating me and I said—I told you that…I had lied.”

Jyn blinked. “You were…delirious. I didn’t think coherence was even in the cards for you then, let alone memory.”

“Do you remember what I said?” He pressed her.

Of course she did. But she wanted—no, needed to hear him say it. Because she wanted proof he was with her that day. She felt her lip slot between her teeth of its own accord in some sort of testament to her continued silence.

He took a half step toward her. “I told you I had lied about you not being the only one who’d lost everything.”

“I don’t understand, I thought you—”

“Jyn, I haven’t lost everything.” 

Something inside her stilled as though emotions and thoughts circuiting the ocean of her mind finally hit the bottom. The motion had kept her reeling for so long, but now it was like she realized how far she’d sunk from the surface and there was no air to get her to the top.

Saw’s words echoed clear in her head.

One fighter with a sharp stick and nothing to lose can take the day.

Time slowed down. Or maybe it sped up. Honestly she wasn’t sure what her chrono was doing at the moment. But the man in front of her had stolen every bit of breath from her lips. He would have to be the one who gave it back—who helped her surface again.

Her reaction must have scared Cassian because he pressed on. “There’s one good thing I have left in my life to protect. Of course, I hadn’t been fully aware of that at the time. Part of me knew otherwise, but...acknowledging something like that.” His face fell several degrees as did his eyes. “It’s dangerous. And now it’s the reason your father was abandoned up there…I…I’m sorry.”

Neither of them spoke for a while. Only the whir of Hoth wind slotting down into their trench from time to time to tousle Jyn’s bangs dimensionalized the situation. 

“A soldier with something to lose.” Cassian shook his head. “In a war like this? I trust you. But…how am I supposed to trust myself?”

Finally Jyn swallowed her hesitation, both physically and mentally. “But back at Echo—that night when...” she fumbled for words. 

“Claro,” he recalled in Festian. “It was…the first night I truly acknowledged what a fool I had been. Holding you in my arms like that—with our lives still so strong all around us—not like on Scarif.” Cassian tugged his gaze back to hers, pupils wide. “Made me realize just how much I could lose. And…it terrified me, the thought of someone using you against me.” He tried to shrug, but it was transparent. “I thought if I pushed you away that…”

It was not like him to peter out.

“If you pushed me away you’d have nothing to lose,” she finished for him. If he pushed her away no one like Drakkar would know about them and exploit their loyalties. Jyn couldn’t believe it. All this time, believing him to loath her affections, when ironically he’d returned them? It was all making her head spin on multiple axes. Then she remembered something, and her moment of retribution fled from her as soon as it had come.

It took him several seconds to beat back the shame and nod. But when he did her voice found its way through a fault line she didn’t realize it had been trapped beneath. “You absolute kriff-herder.” Her voice stung with betrayal.

Cassian blinked at her and finally satisfaction swelled under her skin for finally poking a reaction out of him. She could see the gears still trying to lodge into place at her response.

“You let me feel like I had failed you—like you regretted your associations with me. And now you have the nerve to try and turn that on its head and mock my pain.” She scowled at him, not caring what kind of chunk her words ripped from him. It was her turn to take back the dignity he’d let flake away during all those rejections. “Why are you telling me all of this?”

Cassian’s eyes fluttered in shock and he reverted to breathy Festian again as he wrangled with her unexpected reaction.

“Perdón?”

Jyn swiveled back toward her sentinel post, eyes scanning the horizon where white met indigo in a slurry of haze from the blustery powder that was stirred into tundra. 

“You’re still going to keep me at arms length, aren’t you,” she accused, not acknowledging him any longer. “Acknowledging weakness only so you can purge it from your life. Just like you’ve always done. Just so you can keep hope in your rebellion.” With a pang, she realized just how stark the truth of her words rang even within her. If rebellions were built on hope and being together meant that hope was compromised, what would that mean for the rebellion?

Jyn shook her head in realization and actually laughed. She’d figured it out. “You won’t ever let yourself get close to me.”

“Watch me,” Cassian growled behind her.

Suddenly, Jyn felt an iron grip around her wrist spin her around and into an insistent and very solid Cassian. There was far too much shock in her veins for even her reflexes to have sent him back on his ass. 

So she let herself be tugged of her own volition into the man who had all her trust…and who apparently had given her all of his as well.

He crushed his lips to hers for the third time since the glacier, but this time had been different from all the rest. Cassian worked his jaw until his warm lips molded hers into submission. 

It wasn’t long before his tongue at her mouth begged for entrance, conveying all the desperation they’d both carried since Scarif. But all his handlings of her since then had been gentle, patient, and hesitant. This was rough, raw…untouched—as if it might make up for all the times they’d denied their feelings for one another. 

Still reeling from the sudden turn of action, Jyn struggled to keep up with him, and found herself being urged backward until she rammed into something cold and hard. Cassian had shoved her up against the wall until her back pressed into the snow bank behind them. 

When the full length of his body pressed against hers, she gasped against his mouth, which only seemed to spur his hunger, his grip on her demanding. Jyn yielded.

Her hands, which had started on her weapons belt as she stood guard, were now on his cheek, up his neck, in his hair. She pulled him closer and he responded in turn, rolling her further into the snow bank with his hips until every line of their body matched in messy friction. 

Jyn was on her tiptoes, but soon Cassian had taken her weight and hoisted her closer. Using the snow at her back as an anchor, she turned her mouth into his, fisted her hands in his hair and tugged, deepening the kiss and earning a growl from the back of Cassian’s throat. 

This was what their first kiss should have been—not to breathe life into one of them lying frozen in a glacier, not to shut the other up so lives could be saved—but this. This uncoordinated entanglement of lips and bodies and emotions denied for so long that the frustration only increased the impact.

Cassian moved his lips to her jaw and down her neck, testing how she responded. He left a fiery trail across her skin that had Jyn undone and clinging to him, his name parting her lips. After a few brief moments of exploration, Jyn anxiously pulled him back to her lips and took control. 

When he finally broke away, Jyn almost whined at the disconnect. Both just stood there, meshed together, breathing each other in, panting in ways they had only known whilst running for their life. 

Every hard line of Cassian’s body was measurable against her own. His lips ghosted over hers a few more times in wispy pulses of affection, not ready to let her go yet. She responded each time, timidly, shakily…like she was crashing off some high and now the contact almost scared her, until he migrated to the corner of her mouth and let his lips map out the geography of her face there, each breath in sync with hers.

Still, Jyn allowed her hand to drift from his hair to his temple and down his cheek, feeling the warmth of his face—the warmth that meant he was alive and this was real. Cassian’s eyes closed against her touch before he turned his head to capture her palm with his lips. He pressed a kiss along the curve of her hand and coaxed a stuttering breath from Jyn.

“Kriff, Jyn,” Cassian muttered huskily against her hand before dragging it and the other, which had fallen to rest on his neck, down into his fingers. “You’re freezing.” 

His eyes, which had only met hers for a moment before turning down towards her hands, had darkened with some shade of desire.

It wasn’t the most genius thing Jyn was expecting from him after a move like that, but he wasn’t wrong. She’d lost feeling in her fingers and toes some several hours back into her shift. It was easy to forget that her hands must’ve felt shockingly cold against the warm skin of his neck. Not much of anything other than the here and now occupied her mind at the moment. 

Even still, she was certain that he had helped her warm up considerably and that she was much warmer now compared to before.

Cassian moved to cup her hands in his and blow warm breath onto them. The feel of his lips on her fingers again made her heart flip in ways she didn’t even know it could. And it left her hands burning.

Focus, Jyn.

There were still a few blanks she needed to fill.

“I, uh,” she started. He glanced up her with a clear gaze, expectant. “I do understand why, you know.”

His head canted, but he kept up his work warming her hands. Little buzzes of feeling were starting to melt back into her fingers, fortunately or unfortunately, because it meant she could now feel more of Cassian’s handiwork. And by gods was it distracting.

But this was too important.

“I understand why you didn’t—why we could never…”

Jyn blushed furiously and looked down. Why was this so hard?!

“What it feels like to have something to lose,” Jyn continued, taking a different angle. “I remember now why I avoided it, too. So…” she swallowed. “Why did you do it? Change that, I mean? I had it down to a science—avoiding you. We could’ve kept that up forever, I suppose.” It was statistically inevitable that this war would claim one or both of them at this rate. Every time they parted for missions, it always could be for the last time. He knew that, too.

Cassian finally folded her hands into his and moved them down from his lips. One thumb he engaged in tracing the thin scar still marring her cheek from where Drakkar had struck her. “It was that pain of almost losing everything again, Estrellita, that I had to.”

They weren’t ready for actually putting words to how they felt. Perhaps they never would be. It was almost better that it was unspoken, because it was as if they were enjoying all the wine and bouquet with none of the inebriation—taking full pleasure in each other without ever risking as much as they might.

“I’m strong, Cassian,” she whispered. “But I don’t know if I’m as strong as you think.” 

Losing him would break her. It would break her beyond repair, which she only knew because she was left to wonder if he would ever return during those many lonely and cold nights at Echo when he was deployed. 

Yet when they had almost died on Scarif, she wanted to curse the Empire for taking him with her, but she had selfishly relished in knowing she wouldn’t have had to be alive to feel the sting of his death. 

Cassian pressed his forehead to hers and pulled her away from the snow by snugging his arms around her waist so he had all her weight leant into him. This arrangement was much warmer and she slotted perfectly between his arms.

“Eres más de lo que nunca podrías saber.” 

“I don’t know what that means.”

He huffed a laugh, the warmth of his breath fanning over the curve her neck. “No. You probably wouldn’t believe it either. But I’ll spend el resto de mi vida proving it to you if I have to.”

Jyn didn’t want this. She hadn’t thought this through. There was too much at stake, and she’d forgotten how dangerous these emotions were—the same emotions that got her mother killed. Suddenly, Cassian’s rebuff of her affections didn’t seem so unwarranted. That didn’t mean he had to lie to her about it, but it also didn’t mean they had to indulge these moments either.

“Cassian—"

“When Drakkar had you,” he interrupted her. “When you landed in the hands of one of my men—a murderous soldier who would’ve squeezed or bled the life from you to get to me. Or Jecht.” He licked his lips so they didn’t grimace. “When I heard him scream your name like that after you’d been shot, I—”

His voice snagged. Jyn’s chest tightened at the sight of tears sponging his downcast eyes. One of her hands found it’s way up to cup his cheek. He covered it with his own like it offered him anchor.

She tried again.

“Cassian—“

“Let me finish,” he almost begged. Suddenly she realized he’d never get this out otherwise if she didn’t. This was far more progress than she ever expected to get from him in one night.

She closed her mouth, which had opened to object, and settled for a nod instead. 

“Being so far away from you and powerless to—” Words were not coming easily to him. The war he was fighting internally was almost visible past his intelligence training. He shook his head. “Jyn, it was a fear I’d never felt before—in all my years in this war. Over these past few weeks I realized that if you had died believing you had nothing…I’d never have forgiven myself for that. Because you have me. For as long as you need. You’ll always have me. And…I can bear a lot of pain, Jyn, but…I’m not so sure I can bear yours.”

She recalled that night in the tundra when Drakkar had them in pursuit and his movements were slow and unfocused. Had this been why?

Jyn held onto him while she tossed her thoughts around, even though she’d decided on her response right when he started. “Hey,” she caught his gaze again. “We protect each other. Both ways, remember?”

He gave her a small smile with only half of his lips. When his mouth bent in that crooked way, Jyn couldn’t think.

“I don’t care that you don’t trust yourself,” she assured him, “because I do—I trust you. Cassian, I always have.”

He pulled away to observe her. “I guess that makes us both compromised agents, then, sí?”

“Well, I hope you’re not waiting for an apology,” she prompted. Jyn slid her hands from his chest so she could link them behind her back mischievously. 

He smirked. “I know you too well to ask for that. No, what I want is a promise.”

“Oh?”

He reached around and unlinked her hands to capture them in his again like she was being sworn in. “That you won’t pull suicidal, masochistic, idiotic, self-sacrificing—“

“Alright, alright—“

“—stunts like you pulled on that rescue and recovery mission ever again—not for me, Jyn. I’m not worth that.”

“Don’t,” Jyn mumbled at the ground. You’re worth everything. 

There was no eloquent way to phrase why he was wrong just like there was no way she’d ever be able to put those thoughts to voice. “Just…shut your damn mouth,” came a lot easier. She didn’t meet his eyes to see if there was understanding behind them about what she truly meant. But she trusted it was there.

He hooked a finger under her chin and she saw his eye were alight before he leaned down to press a tender kiss to her lips. But he didn’t pull away before murmuring against the ridge of her lips, “Promise me, Jyn.”

She pulled back just enough for her gaze to flit between his eyes. “If it were the other way around, would you agree to that promise?” She asked.

“Not a chance.”

“Then I believe you have your answer spelled out for you, Captain.”

He groaned but suddenly became interested in her fingers again. “You stubborn rebel.”

She leaned into him and breathed in that scent she’d tried to memorize all those weeks ago when they had danced—the scent that made him Cassian. She’d done a shit job at committing it to memory, she decided. 

“Mmm, I learn from the best.”

He wound his arms around her so she tucked under his chin, but she could still feel the disappointment in his muscles.

“Whatever you’re thinking about saying to make me change my mind, you can forget it,” she grumbled.

“It’s not that,” he revealed. 

She tilted her chin up to see him, not even stopping the frown of confusion.

“After all that, and you’re still freezing?” He rubbed friction into her arms, actual concern coloring his eyes.

Jyn knew he didn’t mean it in the way it got her mind spinning—he was far too noble for that—almost sickeningly so. But she saw her chance and she took it. 

“I can think of a few ways to fix that.” 

“Oh, you can, can you?” One of Cassian’s eyebrows quirked into a slope of skepticism. “Is this a promise you can make?”

By way of response, she traced her way up only to pull him back down into another hungry kiss, suddenly angry with him for denying his affections for so long and needing to make up for wasted months, even if her own stance in the matter was as conflicted as this damn war.

Even if Cassian’s intentions behind that statement had been pure, he delivered, running his hands back up her body to cup her neck. Only now he held onto her instead of pushing her into the snow wall. 

This time, they only pulled away when the rumble of the steel door from behind alerted them to another’s presence. Lavidean Slahlvo ducked under the rising door and halted it before it could open all the way to conserve the heat inside the base. When he turned around, he went rigid.

“Well, shite me in half,” he sighed. “It’s about damn time.” His voice punctuated each word like it was a truth he’d been restraining behind the bars of frustration for quite some time.

From her periphery, Jyn noticed Cassian’s lips, which were now red and chapped, thin to a tense line at that last comment.

The two moved away from each other as much as they dared. She wouldn’t let him break contact just yet and kept a stubborn grip on his sleeve, not caring about whatever the hell Slahlvo thought. 

The old warrant lieutenant looked the pair up and down. “I hope you can still carry out your duties and watch perimeter with your tongue down Captain Andor’s throat, Erso.”

Jyn made wry eyes at him. “Oh, you’d be surprised with what I’m capable of, Slahlvo.” She returned the favor, drawing her gaze over his geared limbs. “Even if you are early, which seems to imply your doubt in my capacity to follow orders.”

“Oh, on the contrary.” He leaned against the door jam. “There I was, waiting for my cold as shit shift to start thinking, ‘Hm, Seargent Erso has probably done such a great job guarding perimeter that she deserves to be done early today.’”

Jyn couldn’t suppress her chuckle. “Cool it with the bullshit, Lieutenant. It’s starting to stink around here.”

“As you were, Erso.” 

Planting his heel, Slahlvo shoved off the door and moved past Jyn to take her place as guard. 

“Rosado is expecting your report at 0200."

“So he is.”

She tugged Cassian to follow her and the two ducked under the sliding door before it could close them out in the cold again. Cassian limped after her.

That night, Jyn slept more soundly than she’d had since her mother died. This time, Cassian didn’t have to come to her when she dreamt of Scarif and the faces of Rogue One because he was already there, flush against her back with a heavy arm draped over her waist. And he always would be. He always came back for her, even when no one else did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY our rebels moved past their romantic barriers; this plateau-breech will set them up for the rest of the story.
> 
> Thanks for reading, lovelies!
> 
> Next update: injuries have consequences, especially when there aren't resources to take care of them. Let's see what sorts of trouble Jyn gets herself into with untreated wounds.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, lovelies! Lots of family and distractions this weekend, but I managed to get some writing done. Please enjoy the latest installment to our RebelCaptain journey. Jyn is not being so smart and things get tight when refugees overstay their resources.

“Rotate backwards.” Jerikko ran a hand down Jyn’s shoulder blade while the other gripped somewhere near her bicep.

Jyn did as was instructed, rolling her shoulder back and wincing a bit as her wound that was still healing tugged again. 

“Now forwards, one more time.” He watched her carefully. Jyn made her best poker face despite wishing to bite her lip.

“What’s the verdict, doc.” She asked as he stepped away and began punching things into a datapad. “Am I going to live?”

Jyn shrugged her jacket back on and waited where she sat on the exam table in Jerikko’s modest medbay. 

He sighed and put the screen down. “I’ll be honest—I don’t like the look of that wound. Our bacta is almost gone,” he admitted. “All our resources are down to their last doses.”

“Well,” Jyn forced a smile. “It’s a good thing my shoulder doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Jerikko shot her an unamused look. “You have much to learn in the ways of disguise, Jyn.”

She pulled her chin up. “Excuse me?”

“It isn’t all in the facial features, Seargent.” He turned toward the counter and shoved his hands under the sonic sink. The little bit of blood in his nails and on his fingers evaporated without a trace. “Your tense thoracic muscles deceive you, I’m afraid.”

Jyn’s shoulders dropped. “Do you want to hear something else, Maxim?” 

He glanced at her over his shoulder at the use of his first name before shutting off the sink and wiping his hands on his medic uniform to catch any stray tissue. Turning around, he leaned back against the counter and focused his weight down through his elbows so she could continue with his attention.

“Would it be better if I told you the infection that spread from my blaster wound was painful and that I request a bacta patch? Because I can, but I’ll be biting my cheeks the whole time I say it.”

“I know what you—“

Jabbing a finger behind her, Jyn interrupted. “There are better soldiers than me out there who are far more deserving of whatever we have left of our medical resources. Can you imagine what sort of guilt I would feel if I used one of the last bacta patches because I had a bit of an ache and then, Force forbid, we were ransacked by the Empire? If a wounded rebel died because we were one bacta patch short?”

Jerikko regarded her as if she might break, and she hated him for it. Shoving off the counter, he took a few tentative steps in her direction. 

“Jyn,” he started slowly, tasting the words. “As a medic, I’m forced to commit treason to the oath I took by conducting triages. My judgement is meant to get in the way of my abilities because some people are worth saving and some are not.”

Jyn didn’t like where this was going.

“At the moment, because there are no terrible disasters sinking our ship and claiming our men right now, the current ‘triage' has me sending you back to your station with a bacta patch and instructions to keep your wound clean and patched.”

“But—!”

He held up a finger, silencing her. He was one of the few people who could do that to Jyn and she’d listen. Most rebels knew to respect their medic…most.

“However, you still have the option to go AMA.”

Jyn frowned. “Any man alive?”

He blinked at her. “Against medical advice.”

Blood rushed to her cheeks. But she nodded to affirm her understanding.

“I will sign off on your status as fit for duty despite going AMA. But you have to promise me something in return.”

She pursed her lips. Ultimatums made her skin crawl.

“No more secret rationing of your food.”

Jyn’s heart leapt. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m no idiot, Jyn. Please don’t treat me like one.” 

She didn’t drop her gaze from his out of pride—stubborn until proven guilty. 

He glanced back down at the screen. “You’ve dropped seven pounds since your last weigh-in.” 

She shrugged. “Well, Rosado keeps me much more busy than Rhane did back on the monitors in Echo. I’m running perimeter, so surely that means—“

“No one drops seven pounds in two weeks, Jyn. No healthy person that is. And we have the food for everyone to be getting their rations, so I don’t quite know why you’re lying about your own.”

It was true. Jyn had been skimping on meals the past few weeks because she’d caught wind from Tavion that their supplies would only last them eight days at most unless they arranged a raid of Echo and risk alerting the Empire to the existence of their little strong hold, or else finally manage to get a signal out to be rescued.

Jyn and her team of cyber security officials had been trying to work out the knots of the Empire’s coverage of Hoth to see if there were any weak spots they could exploit long enough to get an SOS out. Rosado had them working around the clock when she wasn’t assigned to sentinel duty at the gates. 

She didn’t mention to Jerikko the strain the screens were having on her retinas. One complicated problem seemed more than enough.

But there had been no progress. Every hole they thought they found was only further covered by external pyrowalling that couldn’t be thwarted with a few pygmy codes or burner passwords. 

So when Tav, who was usually assigned to inventory, revealed to her the status of their sustenance rations, Jyn and a few other rebels decided to secretly forgo some meals. 

In the end, she knew it did no good to weaken herself like this. The others knew it too. But then she thought of Jecht, and Tavion, and Slahlvo—she thought of Cassian. And the idea of her friends with hollow cheeks and jutting ribs stole her appetite anyway.

“When you scant on your nutrients, you weaken your immune system.” Jerikko bent his neck at an awkward angle to catch Jyn’s eyes, which had drifted in thought. “That’s why your wound got infected, Jyn.”

Her eyes shifted back into focus. “My wound,” she started, voice pitching a bit in accusation, “was infected because a bloody stormtrooper shot me with a blaster and roasted my skin so bacteria could better eat the flesh that had been cooked in the damn process. My wound was infected because we are squatting in the icy dirt of a frozen planet waiting for a rescue that isn’t coming on dwindling supplies.”

Jerikko’s upper lip twitched like he was trying to keep it from pulling over his teeth. He might have been a medic, but when push came to shove, he was a soldier in a war. And it just so happened that Jyn excelled at turning her pushes into shoves.

“Fine,” he spoke calmly, which was almost worse than him snapping at her. “You want to starve yourself at the expense of your health, be my guest. But don’t you dare think about coming to me if your infection becomes septicemic. Because you’ll have no one else to blame but yourself. And once it reaches your blood,” his eyebrows lifted, “you’ll wish you’d taken that last bacta patch."

Jyn’s eyes flashed, but she knew when to keep quiet. “Will you sign me off. Please.” There was no questioning intonation in her voice. An ultimatum for an ultimatum.

“I don’t go back on my promises, Jyn.”

“That makes two of us.”

He thrust a slip into her hands and punched something on the screen of his handheld to verify her status. “AMA. Fit for duty, as requested and as promised.”

Jyn shoved off the table and bowed with her hands out and eyes never leaving the medic’s. It was more polite than giving him the bird, but she still knew the motion curdled his blood. Before she could stick around to find out what happened when the soldier side of Jerikko overpowered the medic, Jyn slipped out of the medbay, testing her shoulder once more. 

It had been three weeks now since she’d been shot. Twelve days since she started cutting rations. And eight days since she and Cassian reconciled their affections.

In that time, her damn wound had managed to get infected, leaving Jyn with a nasty fever and bouts of shivering and sweating all at once. They had cut bacta treatments after her wound scabbed over, hoping it would heal by itself and they could stronghold some resources for later. But it turned out that they hadn’t quite eradicated her ailments, and when she began missing vitamins, her immune system crashed. 

By some miracle, she’d managed to keep it from Cassian, playing it off as side-effects from her nightmares. He knew she had foregone bacta treatment on her wound because he had also cut treatment to his leg. His persisting limp gave him away…and the fact that he divulged to Jyn what he was doing and why. Jyn had agreed and said she would do the same and let nature run its course on their injuries, much to Cassian’s chagrin. 

She could see he begrudged telling her, because then he became an example for her to follow. But his integrity kept him honest with Jyn. And Jyn’s care for Cassian and her friends, and hell, even for the rebellion, made a liar out of her to her Captain. As much as she hated it, for some reason she felt called to this. 

If Cassian gave her comfort and warmth at night and confidence during the day, and the rebellion gave her a family and a place to sleep in the midst of war, then dammit she would go hungry for a little bit to do something in return.

When her shivering began happening at night, Jyn just put one more extra blanket between herself and her captain. She could tell it hurt Cassian to think that she wanted some space from him, but the alternative of him knowing she was sick and skipping meals was a whole lot of hell she didn’t need from him right now.

We’ve all done terrible things on behalf of the rebellion.

Truer words had never been more justification for what she was doing. Jyn knew it was wrong. But her mother’s last words to her had been to trust the Force. And for some reason, the Kyber crystal slung around her neck hummed more strongly when she went with her gut—medical advice be dammed. 

Jyn began making her way towards their storage units to track down the inventory clerks before she returned back to her team at the monitors. 

Xone Kasra was testing quality control of a few hyposprays when she arrived.

“Tavion’s not here,” she said without taking her eyes away from her task.

“Well do you know where I can find her?” Jyn’s eyes scanned the unit for any sign of her friend.

Xone finally looked up at Jyn, hands frozen over the plunger of a syringe. “I said she’s not here, Seargent. Now please, you’re not authorized to be back here.”

Jyn affronted. “And I asked you a question. Do you know where my friend is?”

The tall woman seemed to roll up to a standing position. She towered over Jyn with legs the length of trees. “Location off duty is unrecorded. You of all people should know that.” She gave her a judgmental once over with a flick of her irises.

Jyn bristled. Apparently a few of the rebels were more perceptive than she and Cassian were secretive. Rosado had made it clear that no fraternization would occur while in this state of refuge. But Jyn was a rebel in more ways than one. 

And she thanked God Cassian was too. Or maybe he was more just spiteful of Rosa’s smidgeon of superiority that was not well-deserved. If anyone decided to question Captain Andor about his loyalties, they’d be committing insubordination to their Captain. The only one he had to be worried about was Rosado. And Jyn got the feeling that he was more inclined to test his rank against that of the Major. 

It was a bit of an immature game of ‘who will put their gun down first.’ Even though Cassian had assured her several times that he hadn’t started it, Jyn still didn’t like the consequence Rosado could inflict on him if he wanted to.

“If someone pulls a weapon on you,” Cassian had explained one morning over a breakfast of black caf, “would you also not draw yours?”

“But he doesn’t have a weapon on you,” Jyn had tried to reason with him. But she secretly understood the power play. It was a game she knew well from Saw’s army. If there was one thing you learned during a rebellion—it was that nothing was safe. Not even rank.

“Do you know when she’ll be back?” Jyn continued to push. But she laid off the shoving. For some reason, Xone scared her more than Jerikko ever would.

“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to discuss shifts with members not tasked with inventory.”

Jyn lingered for a moment longer to see if she could garner the answer to the question she came with herself. 

How many more days do we have now? Are the rationings of a few rebels making a difference—prolonging the integrity of our resources?

Being a cyber security systems operator for their base, Jyn was fairly good at maths. But her eye for estimating was a bit blurry. She had no idea what was in each bin and how much of it they had to distribute. 

These evacuation tunnels were built to last two weeks for an army. Given they were just a few battalions short of a full army, they’d managed to draw out the use of the tunnel. 

Still, it had taken their inventory team several days to figure out portioning and quantities for everyone. Between not knowing the logistics of proper rationing and caring for their ill and injured, the first few days at the camp had been wasteful to say the least.

Even though they knew better now, the time left on their clock was certainly down to only a few days. A few days before they were all left without food and without medical resources. 

Jyn quickened her pace back to her station, knowing Rhane would be looking for her if she wasn’t back by 1600. Perhaps today, with the extra boost of urgency, Jyn would find that little chink in the armor and get an SOS out to Mon Mothma’s ships and fleets. 

For all she knew, everyone out there thought they were dead. But if she or her team didn't get a message out in the next few days, they would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Jyn's not making the best decisions, but her justification for her choices felt very true to her character so this chapter kinda happened outside my planning of it. What can I say, characters have a mind of their own sometimes.
> 
> Next update: you don't think Jyn can honestly hide this from Cassian forever, do you? He's far too perceptive. Stay tuned for an overdose of mutual pining from our favorite galactic rebels
> 
> Also, just wanted to say thank you to those who left me the sweetest comments!! Pointing out what I've done well or what you think should be changed is the reason I grow as a writer, so take all the thank-you's that you can carry because your support means the world to me :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Many hellos, readers :) Thanks for tuning in for the latest installment! So, so sorry for late posting! Moved back to school and kinda had my life in boxes and suitcases for a while. Please enjoy the latest update. I apologize for any spelling errors! It's late here and I am typing drunk off exhaustion. 
> 
> Trouble in paradise this time around. But angst is angst is angst is angst; so please enjoy this mutual pining-fest. (They really are the worst at romance aren't they?)

The following evening, Jyn was just filling out her report for her shift of pyrowall targeting when Rosado paged her for perimeter duty again. She groaned and submitted her shameful “nothing to report” note before gathering her things and heading towards his office for task assignment.

She’d still not managed to get a hold of Tavion in the last twenty-seven hours. And Jyn would bet her stripes that Xone had everything to do with that. 

Not authorized, my ass. Jyn thought dryly as she stepped past rebels finishing their daytime duties.

Meals were most likely being prepared for the switching of day to night shifters. Jyn couldn’t help but wonder what sorts of dehydrated gunk they’d be served today and whether or not the inventory clerks had begun cutting portions yet. 

She reminded herself to send word to Cassian that she’d be missing dinner tonight. They’d planned a little birthday meal for Jecht, who apparently hadn’t told anyone when he was born. But there were no secrets in the rebellion. It was easy information to access. 

Jyn did her best to ignore the matching ache in her stomach and shoulder. No doubt her infection was still a problem. Even though she sonic-showered it every couple of hours when she had a free minute to escape to the bathroom. Her hunger didn’t concern her. She was rather used to the feel of her ribs against her shirt. 

But Jyn had gotten smart and began wrapping her abdomen with the dirty bandages she found in the bio-waste containers outside Jerikko’s medbay. That way, when she woke up at night with the latest face of Rogue One making her frame shudder, the warm arms that slid around her torso and pulled her back into a firm chest to ease her back to a fitful sleep would not feel the hollowness of her abdominal cavity.

Just before she could make the final turn to Rosado’s office, she nearly rammed into someone.

Jyn fumbled back a step but kept her gaze down, muttering some form of an apology with every intention of just moving around them. But the figure moved with her, blocking her path.

Then she realized she recognized those boots. They usually sat at the foot of her or Cassian’s bed…

Kriff.

Slowly, her eyes traced their way up to a fuming Captain. 

“Cassian!” If she acted like nothing was wrong, perhaps she would be right and he would just tell her about the shit day he’d had and it wouldn’t amount to anything more. But Jyn knew the lines on his face were hardened for a different reason. “Are you alright?” 

She continued to play dumb.

Sooner or later, he would find out about her actions. And she’d have hell to thank. But she prayed to the Force that today was not that day. 

Her Kyber crystal went silent. Thanks for the help.

“Don’t pretend,” his voice was dangerously slow. And his Festian accent was making him hard to understand. 

He’d been giving her lessons in rudimentary Festian. But he hadn’t quite trained her ear to the proper accent yet. Coupled with Basic, the meaning behind his words was rather difficult to formulate sometimes.

The two just stared at each other, waiting for someone to breathe first. A noise from Jyn’s chronos alerted her to Rosado’s page again.

Jyn steeled herself and tried to round him again. But he just stepped in her path, an imposing roadblock.

“Cassian, I’m on perimeter tonight,” she locked eyes with him, challenging his intention. “Rosado’s orders.”

She knew she’d hit a nerve by siding with Rosado’s orders over his presence and his mouth only twisted more.

Suddenly he grabbed her hand and began towing her towards her quarters. Jyn began thrashing and twisting her wrist, slapping at his grip and calling him names.

“Let go of me, Cassian!” She hollered. “I have duty—“

“Not tonight, you don’t,” Cassian didn’t even turn around. But his voice was so angry, she heard him anyways. “I got Rhane to cover your shift.”

“Rhane?! My superior?! The hell is all this for?!” 

Cassian jerked her around, eyes wild. “Are you serious, right now? Even when I know the truth, you’re still spitting out lies?!”

Jyn tried not to shrink back. But it was difficult.

“Unbelievable.” 

He cast a gaze through their surroundings as if suddenly realizing they were making a scene. But his attention snapped back more quickly than a rebounding rubber band and then they were off again, Jyn struggling to keep up behind him and still trying to pry his bruising grip off her wrist. Despite his broken leg, he could out-stride Jyn in his anger any day. 

Because Hell hath no fury like a Captain who’d been deceived by his sergeant. So he limped on. 

Step, step, step, jolt, drag. Step, step, jolt, drag. 

She didn’t want to admit that her hunger and infection had most certainly weakened her. But in this heightened state of adrenaline, she was doing quite a number on Cassian’s hand, drawing blood over several knuckles.

Still, he did not relent until Jyn’s door had closed and she was standing at the foot of her cot, panting in a mix of rage and anxiety. 

Before she could even get her bearings, Cassian had shoved her back on the mattress. Jyn gave a cry of indignation, which he promptly ignored.

He shucked off her jacket and wrested up the hem of her shirt to reveal the bandages looping just under her rib cage, filling her out. 

At the sight, his eyes darkened and his face fell. He tipped back on his heels and just stared, his now-limp hand still propping up her shirt and a defeated look hanging from his features.

After several seconds, he let it slip back down to his side and rest at his knees. 

“Jyn,” he was calmer now. “Unwrap your bandages.”

All secrets out, Jyn drew in a shaky breath. She ruminated over her options for a painful moment but decided there was really only one in front of her now.

“Now."

With gluey fingers, Jyn reached around her waist and untucked the lip of bandage she had fastened earlier that day. Her hands worked mindlessly, drawing away the soiled bandages length by length until the skin of her midriff began to show. Next was her bellybutton. Until finally, she’d reached the final bands hiding where her stomach met her ribs. 

That was where the damage was most obvious. 

The ridge between the planes of her torso was stark. She knew it wasn’t as bad as it could be though. And frankly it had been worse in the past—those days after Saw had abandoned her to fend for herself.

But she decided it was best not mention that to Cassian right now.

His lids sealed shut when the last of her bandages fluttered to the floor. Jyn took the opportunity to pull her shirt back down so the sight was gone when he finally decided to grace her with his presence again.

“You’re going to go back to Jerikko tomorrow morning and get that bacta patch you refused from him yesterday—“

“Now, hold on—“

“Don’t! Say a word.” He pulled a deliberate breath through his nose and continued with open eyes. “In the meantime, you will eat both your and my rations for dinner tonight—I said quiet, Jyn!” He snapped when she tried to interrupt him again.

“We are not arguing about this. In fact, I can’t even believe we are talking about it at all.”

It was her turn now. “You’re talking about it!” She protested. “I’m just listening. Being talked at! You have no idea why I did what I did!"

He was on his feet in an instant.

“I don’t care.” His voice was menacing. Suddenly she was taken back to Eadu when she confronted him about shooting her father. Even then, this was a tone he’d never taken with her before. For some reason, it was making it easier to talk back to him, because if he was the same Cassian she’d grown to trust, this would be a lot harder. “Nothing, nothing is worth what you’re doing to yourself.”

“Oh, and you’re so sure about that?”

“I am!”

It hurt more than she expected for Cassian to not know—to not realize or understand just how much he—how much she needed…dammit. Even to herself it was hard to admit. But the memory of the first time they’d truly kissed played itself out again in her mind. She’d told him. She’d told him what he meant to her. And still he refused to see it.

“Then you’re a bigger fool than I am!” She knew she was a fool, too, but it was the best she could come up with.

He was in her face, but she didn’t relent.

“If you remember nine days ago, I never promised anything,” she reminded him. 

His eyes narrowed to slits and his mouth pulled into a disgusted smile. “Oh, I remember. But this isn’t you ‘not keeping a promise,’ Jyn.” 

The quotation marks were audible in his voice.

“This is you being selfish, again.” His eyes dropped down her figure as if to make sure she wasn’t hiding anything else. 

Jyn open and closed her mouth. “S-Selfish?!”

Both hands connected with his chest and shoved. “Are you fucking kidding me right now, Cassian?!”

They were almost nose to nose, but she had to stand on her tiptoes to even come close.

“Everything I am doing—every ration I save, every bacta patch I refuse—it’s all for the rebellion! So people I know, and people I love can survive! It’s never—not once! Been about me! How dare you!?” She shoved him again for good measure. But he was pretty solid and didn’t go very far.

He thwarted her attempts and took a step towards her, rebuffing her efforts at getting as far away from him as her arms allowed. Cassian shook his head, voice quiet again to construe bone crushing disappointment. “You didn’t think to consider the importance of your health to this rebellion—to your friends…to me??…You’re not the one that has to watch people they care about waste away. I’m not even going to ask to see your shoulder, Jyn.”

“Oh that’s rich coming from a cripple who still bloody wheezes from a punctured fucking lung that won’t heal!! And why won’t that heal, again?” She knew he’d also turned down bacta patches. Pot. Kettle.

Her last comment went ignored, but she knew she’d struck a nerve. His chin tilted up a few degrees and he glared at her down his nose. “You’re going to eat, and you’re going to wear that damn bacta patch.”

“Jerikko can shove his bacta patch up his medical asshole. And he is going to have to answer for being a little rat—“

“Don’t be barbaric, Jyn. I went to him—!”

"Do I have to spell it out in terms you can understand, Cassian?” She spat. “Our holds are dwindling! Our resources will not support this base for one more week! What part of the severity of this situation escapes you?!”

“I know the conditions of our supplies! I am your Captain, dammit!” 

Jyn’s mouth snapped shut and she fell backwards a step. It was the first time he ever exerted superiority over her and meant it. That one time in the glacier where he had tried to order her had been his last ditch effort for her to listen to him. This was different. This was demeaning.

In fact, it was betrayal of the even ground they always stood on. He’d officially drawn a mountain between them.

“You are my Captain,” she agreed in very few tones. 

Lines on his face softened a bit, and his lips parted in realization of the effects of his words. Not that he looked sorry for what he said, but that her reaction of acquiescence was not one he was expecting.

“And as your subordinate,” she tugged her jacket back on. “I will carry out your orders.”

“Jyn—” 

“Will that be all, Captain?” She asked, pushing back her shoulders.

With her denial of his attempt to smoothen out the rocky terrain he’d just roughed up, his face set in stone again and spoke to her with a chilly voice.

“As you were, Seargent. Get down to the mess hall for your rations and then on your way to the medbay. I’ll be waiting for affirmation from Jerikko of your treatment.”

“Don’t bother."

Jyn shoved around him and disappeared down the hallway, leaving a very deflated, very angry Cassian Andor blinking through wet eyes and standing alone in her quarters with a mess of soiled bandages at his feet.

What Cassian didn’t see were the matching tears in Jyn’s eyes. If only he had followed her, perhaps fate might have changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ominous ending, amiright? I can't help myself, there are dark times ahead and I am a sucker for making the impending whump worse by adding emotional baggage.
> 
> Plot bunnies are digging deep holes with this story! So stay tuned!
> 
> Next update: Jecht and Jyn hash out some problems and a looming threat makes itself known! (AKA refugee camps are temporary for a reason. I wasn't kidding about the "calm before the storm" last chapter. Shit is about to hit the fan, so don't go away).


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good evening, lovely readers. Thanks for returning! Here is our next installment. I had a lot of fun with this chapter because it's a little more dialogue-happy and I specialize in sass. So here is a lighter chapter still lightly tinted with all the angst we love (and a special angst-bomb to drop at the end)

Tavion’s hard pillow under her cheek had ridges stiffened into the pillowcase that pressed uncomfortable lines into Jyn’s face as she tried to sleep. 

Her friend had just been emerging from her room for the night shift at the cargo ward when Jyn ran into her on her way back from Jerikko’s medbay. After a much needed interrogation on the status of their supplies, Tavion had offered Jyn her room for the night, knowing her friend would never ask to take advantage of her hospitality—and that, for whatever reason, her friend and that Captain she’d taken to were currently on the outs.

With a bit of reluctance, Jyn had accepted. Of course, she and Cassian still maintained their own quarters—as their rank (and Major Rosado) required of them. However, it gave Jyn some small pleasure and peace to take back some power from the man who outranked her by keeping her whereabouts secret. 

No doubt he would’ve checked her room when she didn’t show up at his…or vice versa. So sleeping where he wouldn’t check would be a sure way to ensure restless shut-eye for him.

She’d done what he’d ordered: ate double rations, reported back to Jerriko. Things had all been going according to plan…until Jerikko took her vitals.

It was bad. Jyn didn’t quite have the terminology to describe it. But there was a word she did recognize somewhere in the long narration of medical jargon in there. And it had been turning over in her mind like a pig on a spit. Maybe if she turned it in all different directions then it would hurt less—curtail the burn somehow.

Shifting her head again to try and flatten the burlap sack into cooperating against her jaw, Jyn huffed and finally just sat up. This was not working. She loved Tav, but dammit if she didn’t have the weirdest, most uncomfortable sleeping habits she knew.

For a moment, Jyn entertained the idea of rolling up her jacket around the pillow to form a softer surface and trying again. But for some reason, no ounce of sleep sounded appealing to her at the moment. 

She rolled to her side and swung her legs over the edge of the bed until they hit the floor and she could push herself up.

This news Jerikko had dropped on her was never going to let her get even a wink of sleep.

There’s a way you could, though. Her mind cruelly reminded her.

No. She would not cave this easily. But she would eventually, and probably sooner than she would like to—because Jyn was operating on borrowed time at this point.

Abandoning all attempts at resting, Jyn quietly donned her jacket so as not to wake Tavion’s bunkmate and then slipped outside, making sure only a thin beam of light flooded in from the door when she left.

Already her breathing was more labored than she remembered. Jyn wasn’t afraid of death, but dying was not something she particularly looked forward to. Her heart beat spiked in fear. It wouldn’t take long for her body to quit responding to her the way it used to. Phase one was already taking effect. 

She needed to take a walk. 

But she didn’t even make it ten meters before someone fell into step beside her.

“You look like shit, Erso.”

From the corner of her eye, and the lilt of forced sarcasm to mask real concern, Jyn could tell it was none other than Jecht strolling at her side.

“Sepsom,” she regarded him.

He pondered her response. “That’s it? No mouthing back?” She could tell he didn’t like that.

Jyn made a noise with her lips. “Well, what can I say? You’re not wrong. Besides, I probably feel worse than I look.”

“Jyn,” he grabbed her shoulder so she stopped and spun her around to face him.

The glint from a jerikan slung at his waist belt caught her eye. Before he could interrogate her, Jyn pointed at it.

“Is there any alcohol in that?”

Jecht, whose mouth had been open to question her, smacked his lips together. He eyed her with suspicion.

“No.” He answered slowly.

“Give it to me.”

“Man, come on! Can’t a guy just enjoy his spirits without all the kids in class asking for a piece of his gum?”

Jyn reached down to snatch at it, but he expertly swiveled his hips away.

“Jecht!”

“You know the dry policy Rosado’s laid down here!”

She lunged again, but this time he palmed her forehead like she were only a mere child throwing a tantrum and lifted the bottle where he knew she couldn’t reach.

“Don’t manhandle me, you sith-prick!”

“Would you quit deflecting! We’re not arguing about my liquor stashes right now!”

“Not even if it was my dying wish?” Jyn huffed as she leapt into the air at the bottle he was dangling over her head.

Now Jecht had been set on keeping Jyn from laying any hold on his bottles. But when she said those words, his arm dropped enough for her to snatch at it, remiss in his game of keep-away.

“Don’t joke about that.”

Jyn uncapped the jerikan canteen. “I’m not,” she deadpanned before tipping it to her lips.

Suddenly, Jecht’s hand shot out and yanked the bottle away from Jyn’s lips mid pull. 

Big amber droplets splooshed all down her uniform. “Force, Jecht! What the hell is your problem?” She engaged both hands in wiping down the stain before it could set and flicking the liquid from her hands before she dragged the back of her wrist across her lips to rescue any stray droplets.

A grip materialized hard and firm against her shoulder, forcing Jyn to look up. “Are you serious right now?”

Before Jyn could respond, a wave of nausea rolled over her and she swayed on her feet, vision spinning. Jyn felt her knees buckle and she would’ve nose-dived into the floor were it not for a strong arm around her shoulders.

“Woah! Jyn!” Jecht caught her and stabilized her on her feet again, his hands lingering over her shoulders as she righted herself. She knew he wouldn’t remove them for fear of her actually keeling over next time.

“Kriff it all,” he hissed under his breath. 

“’S that answer ‘nuff, for you, Seps’m?” Jyn slurred as she regained her wits about herself.

“We need to get you to Jerikko,” Jecht announced, pulling Jyn’s weight against him.

“Where do you think I came from?” Her strength was returning from her most recent bout of remittent crashing. 

“What?”

Jyn tried to shove off him. He only released his friend a little ways. “Let go of me. I’m fine.”

“You must think so little of me, Erso. We both know that’s a damn lie. What do you mean ‘that’s where you came from’? You’ve already seen a medic?”

She wanted to scowl at him, but then she reminded herself that it was his birthday…or…had been about two hours ago. 

“Well I didn’t very well diagnose myself with septicemia, now did I?”

“Basic, Jyn.”

“Infection of the blood.” Jyn drew back the lapel of her jacket and then her tunic neck to expose the blackened wound over her shoulder. The whole area of skin surrounding it had turned a gruesome green and yellow color. “My lovely gift from Drakkar’s troopers left me with the perfect breeding ground for metastasizing bacteria. They’re in my blood stream now.”

“Well can’t Jerikko just give you some bacta injections? A stimulant from a hypospray? I mean—"

“We’re out of bacta,” Jyn revealed. “We had one patch left, and Jerikko said it would only prolong my life…not save it.”

There was that word again, pulling her mind into depths she couldn’t follow. 

“Jecht,” Jyn pinned him with her gaze to make him believe the next words to come. “My condition is terminal.”

Terminal.

A few soldiers on night guard rounded the corner behind them in the hallway they’d stopped in. Jecht gave them a nod, stowing his jerikan.

“Seargent Erso,” a voice rumbled.

Jyn stiffened.

“Lieutenant Rhane.” She could pick out the demanding voice of her boss at any hour. “May I be of assistance?”

“You left your monitor early today for perimeter duty. Yet I find you and one Emeritus General Sepsom policing the corridors?”

“My apologies, sir.” She dropped her gaze and lied smoothly. “Rosado had paged several of us and set to duty whoever arrived first. Coming from systems security, I was third of five.”

She didn’t have to look up to feel Rhane conducting a visual search of her stature. If he noticed the alcohol stains on her tunic, he didn’t say anything. 

“Then let’s be faster next time, hmm? We don’t abandon our posts for nothing—certainly not early turn-ins.”

With a flourish of his winter cape, Rhane was gone.

Jyn turned to Jecht, who’d been observing the whole scene with a vacant gaze.

“Why the hell is Rhane traversing the base?” 

When he didn’t answer, Jyn snapped her fingers in front of his eyes and asked him again.

“Rhane was supposed to cover my perimeter duty.”

Jecht finally blinked and his irises contracted back to Jyn. “What? Why in God’s name would Rhane take your shift?”

She rolled her eyes. “A certain captain exerted his superiority over me to order that I see a medic and eat double rations instead of report for duty to Rosado.”

Jecht leaned in. “And who do you think is covering for you?”

Jyn wanted to slap herself. Of course Cassian had lied…again. This was something he was becoming increasingly skilled at. They would have to have another ‘trust’ chat if he kept up this stunt for…whatever remained of her life. Besides he hated perimeter duty.

“Speaking of,” Jecht was whispering now. “Does he know?”

“No, of course not!”

“Jyn!”

“Are you kidding, Jecht?” Jyn fought back a series of shivers shuddering through her muscles at the moment. “We’re about to run out of supplies anyway! Unless we’re guaranteed life out of this ice hell, does it really matter?”

“Of course it matters!” Jecht was a little more than pissed off. “Who else does know?”

Jyn’s squinted at him. “Just you, Sepsom. Happy fricken birthday.”

“You’re real cute, you know that?” He snarled at her. “Treating your life like it’s just another gun to be reloaded. Could you be more cavalier?”

“I am doing this to protect him,” she revealed and then motioned down her body. “And I got to this point trying to protect all of you!”

“Well, then do the world a favor, and let it look after itself! So it doesn’t have to look out for you all the goddamned time!”

“I didn’t ask any of you to do that!” She shot right back.

“And we did?”

Jyn sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and chewed at it angrily, not tearing her defiant gaze away.

“Quit trying to off yourself to preserve your friends, Jyn.”

“Oh, because offing myself for the rebellion is so much more noble.”

Jecht twisted her arm when she tried to storm off, earning a growl.

"You aren’t doing anyone any favors. Especially me. Especially Cassian. Do you have any idea what will happen to him if he loses you?”

“He’ll live, dammit!” She cried out. Not caring anymore if whatever rebels were bunked in this hallway were roused because of her. “He’ll survive. Because this war needs Cassian Andor. But it doesn’t need me anymore.” She blinked back the familiar sting of tears. “My fate was on Scarif. My father’s mission was my own. And Rogue One helped me complete it.” She glanced up at Jecht, watching his face fall. “I should have died with those men, Jecht,” she sniffed. 

Without warning, Jecht pulled his short sergeant into a swaddling hug so she didn’t have to try so hard to hide her tears. 

“No one should’ve died on Scarif, Jyn. But those who did—they knew the risks and took them anyways. They trusted you—they trusted this cause. And they didn’t die in vain, you hear me?”

“But I lived in vain,” she mumbled into his shirt.

“No,” Jecht laughed. “No, you didn’t. Your life has had so much meaning since your extraction from Scarif. You’ve given people hope, Jyn.”

Rebellions are built on hope.

“Think of all the lives you’ve touched—the lives you’ve saved by being alive? I haven’t seen Cassian this hopeful since I first met him as a boy when I was just re-sworn into my position as General.” He re-routed back. “But your death won’t save anyone.” She could feel his head shaking above her. “I know you think what you’re doing will preserve resources. But it won’t save Cassian like you think. Keeping him alive is not the same as saving his life. For Captain Andor,” Jecht swallowed. “His life would die with you even if he didn't.”

Her fists scrunched little balls of fabric in Jecht’s shirt. 

“How can you do that to him, Jyn?” He sounded disappointed in her, and that stung more than any brash words. “To me?”

Pulling away, Jyn distanced herself from Jecht as far as the loop of his arms would allow. “What choice do I have?”

Finally, Jecht let his arms swing back to his side. “You’re a rebel, aren’t you?” He smirked. “Rebel.”

Fight it.

She pursed her lips and regarded him with resigned amusement. “Why were you ever demoted, General Sepsom?”

He supinated his hands. “Beats the hell out of me.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “But on one condition.”

His eyebrow quirked, but he didn’t object.

“We’re going after my father when we get out of this frozen wasteland, got it?”

A grin was growing on Jecht’s face as she spoke.

“We’re going to assemble a team and steal their head architect from under their stuffed-up imperial noses, and we aren’t leaving without him this time."

“Should I start calling you Captian, now, Erso?”

Jyn gave him a watery smile. “I wouldn’t be opposed to another promotion. Just don’t let a certain someone hear you say that.”

“You may be dating my best friend,” Jecht shouldered his jerikan and took off down the hall without Jyn. She trailed after him, telling him off for assuming they were dating. “But he’s still my best friend—and I can tell you, now, that he would full-heartedly sing along with me to that new tune.”

“You call everyone your best friend when you want them to be, Jecht,” she pointed out.

He winked. “A man of many friends is a man of many favors."

She accompanied him as far as his makeshift bunk in a cargo hold. Most of their quarters were in refurbished storage rooms or secluded nooks. If you were lucky enough to have a rank higher than private, you weren’t pressed shoulder to shoulder with your other bunkmates. 

Despite being a demoted and retired rebellion general, Jecht still made sure he qualified for the more special treatment in this system of refugee sewage pipes. 

“As the man, I should be the one escorting you to your bunk, sergeant.”

She elbowed him. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that. Besides,” she shrugged, “I’m meant to be out of bed anyways. I’ve got to go assume my own duties at the perimeter so my cover can get his rest.”

“Good luck fighting that one,” he snorted.

“It is your birthday, sir,” she reminded him. “And since Cassian and I—since I,” she corrected, “managed to ruin your surprise birthday meal—"

“—you didn’t—” he groaned.

“—I suppose I had to make up for it in some way.”

He opened his mouth to respond but was cut off when, all of a sudden, they were thrown into darkness. The heaters near the jams of the hallway doors puttered into silence as well. Without their hum, Jyn felt as if all her senses had just been smothered.

Her breath hitched in her throat. For some reason she felt called to stifle her breathing, as if the silence might betray an answer to what in the hell had just happened.

Blindly, she reached and grabbed a hold of Jecht’s wrist. She heard him take a half-step towards her while they both waited with bated breath for the back-up generators to kick start the power.

She was just about to reach for the glowrod she kept stashed next to the dagger in her boot when the dingy emergency lights fizzed to life. 

Like everything else in this damn sewer, they were red and buzzed with the electricity of neglected, never-used fuses installed by mediocre electrical engineers. Their circuits must’ve looped into the battery system somewhere back on Hoth.

Whoever designed this circuit board clearly didn’t stop to think what it would look like to have huge siphons of power being redirected towards evacuation tunnels to an imperial occupied base. There was no way in hell they could hide now. 

Jyn took off running the second she could see her feet again. It wasn’t long before she tired, but she had to at least try to shut down the default system tapping of the main base.

“And where do you think you’re going, Sergeant Infected? ‘Cause, I’ll tell you right now, it’ll cost you somethin’ fierce at this pace.”

“Unless you’re going to offer to carry me,” Jyn puffed, “stop stealing my oxygen. We need to cut the power before the siphon from base alerts the Empire to our presence.”

A deep rumble vibrated the floor under Jyn’s boots causing her to slide to a stop. Jecht had frozen several paces back, eyes unseeing and trained on something past her.

“I think it’s a bit late for that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, they're in deep waters now. We've got infected injuries, lovers' quarrels, and now the Empire has found out their hiding spot.
> 
> Next update: we get to see some actual battle-talk since I skimped out on that when Hoth was first under siege because they just jumped right into their refugee camp. Major major angst/whump next chapter, so I'll remind all my readers that this story DOES have a happy ending...


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello my little sour patch readers. So, so sorry for late update! The semester just started, and while the first week is usually not very work heavy, I don't have a routine yet, and my job kept me pretty busy the first few days. But I've returned! Thanks for tuning in! Please enjoy the latest installment and remember, no matter what happens this chapter, I promised you a happy ending...it's just gonna take a few more chapters to get there and a lot more angst.

“All soldiers, report to stations.”

The message had been blared on loop for only about two minutes, but the adrenaline spike it was giving Jyn would end up getting all the speakers knocked out of their sockets if it wasn’t turned off soon. 

She’d started off for Cassian as soon as the first bomb went off, but Jecht had stopped her with a firm grip and a shake of his head.

“Sepsom, let me go,” Jyn had given him her most murderous glare. She was not to be tested right now. “He’s out there covering my shift, dammit.”

Jecht cursed and tugged Jyn into submission beside him. He didn’t have to try that hard with how frail she’d become. “Yeah, and I’m in here babysitting his girlfriend so she doesn’t get herself into trouble. Because, lemme tell you something, Erso, if I let you run off and get shot again, it’s my ass that’ll get whooped, not yours.” He stepped up his pace, relaxing his grip a bit when Jyn started following. “Let him come to us."

“Sod off!” Jyn yanked more to piss him off than because she knew he’d let her go. But she also knew he was right. The best help she could offer would be following the orders of a coordinated plan with the other soldiers. But that in no way meant she had to like it or agree with it. It went against every fiber of her to leave him behind after he’d come after her all those times—even if they were in a fight. But she was at a loss.

If the Empire really was behind this, they’d need strategy and back-up. 

Jecht and Jyn arrived at the main battalion area, which just happened to be where two of the tunnels in the system intersected to form the largest chunk of foyer. Really it was nothing special. But it sufficed for now.

Rosado had scaled the wall several feet and was standing on the bolted middle junction of the walling. “Chief Warrant Kasra,” he bellowed, “take your crew and salvage what you can from the storage units and load them onto speeders. Bring all the M33 and ET-MP grenades we have left and clear a path for us. Send up smoke flares when you’ve commandeered some ships, get those ships airborne, and then get back here stat for recovery and rescue. No ship is permitted to jump to hyperspace until it is filled beyond capacity! Do you understand?” 

His voice never lost altitude. “Men on the ground! Lieutenant Slahlvo, you’ll lead our first squad—arm your men with all our strongest assault weapons and fortify the path Xone Kasra’s speeders punched out for you. Stick to the edges of the tunnels—make use of the shadows and keep low! Lieutenant Rhane and Emeritus General Sepsom!”

Beside her, Jecht snapped to attention, turning completely into a rigid soldier. Rosado pressed on.

“You’ll take your teams and follow just behind Slahlvo. Any of his men fall, yours will rotate up! We keep a strong front at all costs, do you understand?”

“Aye, Major!” Jecht barked. Rhane tossed his chin in a curt nod.

“Captain Andor and Lieutenant Sarlin!”

Straining her neck, Jyn looked to find Cort Sarlin to see if he was near Cassian.

“You’ll bring up the rear with the rest of the injured and a few more of our trained combat soldiers. If there is an attack from behind, you’ll be the ones to stop it. And any rebel that falls behind…will be shot.”

There was a rumbling that overtook the crowd. But Jyn didn’t stop her scanning for Cassian, turning to each face with frantic eyes. Sarlin had not been standing near anyone Jyn recognized.

“Listen to me!” Rosado called over the noise. “If the empire gets a hold of any one of you,” he roved his hooded eyes over his refugees. “They will torture you for information—information that could ruin the rebellion! Better to die with your dignity and our secrets intact!”

At this point, Jyn could barely hear him anymore. She’d checked every face twice and still Cassian was not among them.

“He’s not here,” she hissed to Jecht. That got him to turn a deaf ear to Rosado’s orders as well as he began filtering through the crowd.

“Men on the ground—when you see Xone’s flares, you are to ignite response flares at the nearest exit or viewport! Any chance of being found and recovered depends on your ability to watch the horizon and the back of your brother or sister! Is. That. Clear!”

“Understood.” A few men mumbled, some even shouted, but most just nodded their heads with wide eyes. They were tired. They were cold. And Jyn prayed that, this time, “hope” would be enough.

When the squadrons were deployed, Jyn shoved in the opposite direction of the scattering soldiers. She knew Rhane would be waiting for her to report for duty, but there was something she had to do first.

“Lieutenant Sarlin!” She called, knocking against a few more disgruntled soldiers on their way to stations. “Cort Sarlin!”

“Sergeant Erso,” he nodded at her with confusion clear on his face. “Shouldn’t you be standing by for orders from Lieutenant Rhane?” 

Another litany of explosions sounded somewhere off in the tunnels—much closer this time. If she strained her ear enough, Jyn thought she could make out blasters, too. 

“In a moment,” she agreed. “But first I was hoping you could give me the status on Captain Andor’s position? He was covering my perimeter shift, you see, and I haven’t been able to locate him.

“Men, on me!” Sarlin boomed over her head at the amass of soldiers that had gathered around him. 

“Lieutenant Sarlin, please!” 

He finally looked down at her, his pinched nose scrunching. “I’m sorry, Sergeant,” he tightened the straps of his holsters and unhinged the safeties on all his weapons. “There haven’t been any perimeter updates since the invasion. You know as well as I that it is perimeter duty to defend our borders in the instance of an attack. If Captain Andor did not report to Rosado, you may assume he is either doing his duty to the rebellion or he has been killed in action. Either way, commend your Captain for his loyalties and move on. You’d do well to follow his example.”

“You expect me to just leave our men out there to die? Stranded?! Like Rogue One!?” Jyn screamed.

Sarlin’s eyes blared. “I expect you to report to your commanding officer immediately before I report you to Rosado for insubordination. Rogue One was a band of misfits that didn’t follow orders! That is why no one survived! So follow these orders, or you can follow your comrades to the afterlife!”

Orders…when you know they’re wrong.

“Rosado can kiss my insubordinate ass,” Jyn spat in his face and then spun on her heel to bury herself in the crowd before Sarlin could really make her regret that.

It took her several shoves and a bit of heavy breathing to get back to Jecht. 

“Alright,” she panted. “Let’s go find Cassian. No one’s seen him.”

Jecht had been in the middle of loading weapons for his team when Jyn had arrived behind him to tug at his jacket. 

It was certain. There was definitely blaster fire coming from up the tunnel. 

Jyn heard speeder engines blare to life. Xone and her team had just finished loading the last bit of supplies they could fit on the cargo beds of the few remaining speeders they’d managed to sequester from the blown hangar. 

On the back of one of the other speeders was Jerikko, double checking his medical supplies to refill the medkits once they were all on board.

Jyn didn’t keep watching to see them whir away, but she heard the wane of their engines as they disappeared down the tunnels and then the subsequent far-away crashing of hand grenades as they plowed their way through the coming masses.

Did anyone have any idea just how many Imperials were after them? Had anyone scouted ahead to see if their little stronghold even had a chance of making it out of here?

“Jyn,” Jecht didn’t look up from the blaster he was charging. “I can’t leave now. I have orders. I’m needed here.”

“No,” she breathed in disbelief. “Not you, too.” 

Jecht paused.

So Jyn fumbled. “Cassian—he’s out there, Jecht! He and two other soldiers guarding our perimeter—and Rosado is planning on leaving them to die! Don’t tell me you would abandon your men like that!”

“Abandon twenty men,” Jecht asked motioning towards his team, “or three?”

Jyn fell backwards a step, her heart feeling as though he’d just dropped it in molten gold the way it hardened, burned, and fell through her diaphragm. “I don’t believe you,” she shook her head. “I don’t.”

He turned back to his work, more fervent this time. 

The last of the molten ore hardened over her beating organ and she felt herself grow cold. “Fine.” Jyn straightened up. “You stay here with your sense of duty…But I’m going after Cassian and the others.”

With that, she ducked under the arms of rebels passing guns along and then shouldered her way past a few more soldiers before she managed to break free of the throng. 

Already the tunnels had begun to chill. Without the generators, the heaters and lights were completely out of kilter. No heat or red glow came from the usual throb of the heaters at the jams of each tunnel gate.

Jyn fought back another wave of nausea as she ran, doing her best to channel the quaking in her limbs instead to the muscles in her legs that helped her run faster. Jerikko had told her she had a few days left under her belt. But, as she ran, it sure as hell felt like she had much less than that.

The first perimeter gate was in sight. It wasn’t the one she had been stationed at, which meant Cassian would not be there, but it was promising that there was another soldier stranded out there.

She slid to a stop alongside the double sealed gate and peered through the viewports to see into the trench if the sentinel post was manned. When she didn’t make out any distinguishable figure, Jyn punched in the permeability code to crack the threshold and the gate began to creak open. 

“Come on,” she tapped the button impatiently as the door slowly rose to reveal the snowy trench.

There was only just enough space for Jyn to make it underneath both doors comfortably when she finally just let go of the button and slipped under both the doors. 

Just as she rolled onto her knees, she felt something warm under her fingers. Jyn looked down. Red.

Blood.

The snow had been melted away at the precipice of the door by the heat of fresh blood from…from Elix Yalthick. In the corner of the trench was the dark, mutilated body of the cargo security officer. 

She hadn’t seen him earlier because his body had fallen into the shadows. Blaster wounds from lasers on ships, no doubt, steamed all over his body. And the pool of blood that had soiled Jyn’s knees traced all the way back up to the gaping hole in the right of Elix’s chest.

Jyn stumbled back a step into the wall behind her. Suddenly her legs didn’t want to bear her weight anymore. All she could see was the drunken smile of the late cargo officer as he hit on Tavion all those nights ago. Now, Rosado had left him to grow cold and bloodless in the sewer trenches of this frozen wasteland. 

She needed to find Cassian now. 

With blood boiling once again, Jyn rolled back under the double doors and regenerated her jog with more urgency this time toward her post, choosing to ignore the way breath wheezed from her lungs in painful tugs.

She was almost ready to turn the last corner that would spit her out mere meters from the last sentinel gate—Cassian’s post—when she heard someone call her name behind her. 

She needed to ignore it. She was too close.

But it was growing louder and fast. Whoever it was needed her to stop and face them.

“Jyn! Stop! There are Imperial forces approaching from those borders!”

But she could see the doors at this point. The viewports were clear. If she could just make it a few more steps, she’d be able to enter the code and get Cassian out of that death trap before he ended up like Yalthick.

But Jyn never made it that far. 

An arm looped around her waist and tackled her to the floor just as another explosion rang out...This time...right in front of her.

Cassian. 

Something heavy rolled over her as the heat of the blast rushed past them. 

She thrashed until her shield pushed away from her. 

Immediately, she shot to her feet and lunged for the door. Only there was no door—not anymore.

That’s when the anchor reappeared around her waist, holding her back.

“He’s gone, Jyn!” the voice in her ear told her. “We have to go!”

He’s gone.

She’d heard that before. The man lying in waiting for her just beyond the rubble had said those same words to her. She’d be damned if she listened to those words this time only to have them be wrong again. 

“I’m not leaving Cassian!”

He always came back for her. Now it was her turn. She twisted free of whoever was holding her by sliding out the bottom loop of their arms. She sidestepped their lunge for her and leapt over the twisted hunks of metal. 

And that’s when she saw him. 

Jyn couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment her heart shattered. But suddenly she was on her knees, and she couldn’t breathe.

A charred lump of a soldier smoked just outside the last threshold—blackened from the imperial bomb.

“Cassian?” She called tentatively. Jyn began crawling forward, scared of what she might find…or not find. “No, no, no, please!” She sobbed.

Close enough to finally reach out and touch him, Jyn wanted to lay a hand on Cassian’s shoulder, not caring the way her hand would pucker and pop from the still-burning embers of his skin.

His eyes had sealed shut from the burns and a rifle was still firmly clutched in his hands. But in her mind all she could see was the shine in his eyes when he’d looked at her in life—the curve of his lips from the barest of smiles he only really ever wore for her—the solemn security of his arms around her and hers around him as they supported the promise of peace.

“Cassian!” Her voice choked and suddenly she was gasping. “Get up! You bastard—get up!” He remained unresponsive, still several paces away.

The hands returned at her back, soft but urgent. “Jyn. Don’t touch him, you’ll burn yourself!"

It was Jecht. This time she was sure of it. Because she could hear the snag in his voice, too. He arrested her wrist before she could take hold of Cassian.

“No-no!” Jyn wrested against her barrier, but Jecht was unrelenting. “No, come back! Come back to me—Cassian.” 

Alone. He’d left her, and now she was alone. Something about a world without Cassian felt like one she didn’t belong in. So why was she still here and he wasn’t?

The cold trills of Hoth air untucked the hair that had plastered to her forehead with sweat and tossed it behind her. 

“We have to go—now, Jyn!”

Drones of jets and TIE fighters circling back around was growing louder in the sky. The Empire had managed to blow a hole into the Rebel stronghold on their occupied planet. No doubt they were going to exploit that now. 

“I can’t leave him!” Jyn clung to Cassian’s charred form. “I never told him—”

“Jyn!” Jecht yelled as a fighter blew past them overhead.

“—I never told him!”

Jecht was frantic now. With shaky hands, he reached down and pried the fingers of the woman who loved his best friend off of the ledge of the tunnel to which she had anchored herself. 

“He knew!” He assured Jyn. “He knew, I promise, he did!” 

With everything she had, Jyn fought against him. But in the end, a retired general could out-muscle a dying sergeant any day. She wailed and screamed for Cassian, but Jecht ignored each cry and scooped her into his arms.

As another chain of fighters swooped around overhead Jecht took off in a light jog, shifting Jyn so she was almost over his shoulder. He didn’t mean for her to face that direction, eyes still pinned to Captain Andor’s charred body, but any other way was burdensome to him while he got them the hell out of there.

He only stopped once so Jyn could empty her stomach at the edge of the tunnel. When she finished heaving, he let the hair he had pulled from her forehead fringe back over her eyes.

“Jyn,” Jecht kneeled down to her level, slotting a hand under her chin. “Sergeant Erso,” he tried, more commanding this time. It was the only tone to which she would respond.

Jyn’s gaze pulled up to meet his.

“He wouldn’t have wanted this,” he admonished her. She could hear the anger and exasperation in his clipped voice. “Pull yourself together. We’re going after your father, remember?”

With her free hand that wasn’t looped around Jecht’s shoulder for support, she wiped her mouth and bobbed her head in agreement. If it had been her instead, Cassian would have continued on with his mission. She had become sloppy in her emotion, and if she was to fight her infection until they could find enough bacta to treat it, then she’d have to buck up.

“Let’s go.” Jecht hoisted her to her feet where she swayed momentarily before catching herself against the wall. “The troops are leaving.”

As Jyn stomached her pain and followed after Jecht Sepsom, all she could think about was the the last thing she’d said to him—the look of absolute pain on his face when he saw her condition and realized she had been lying to him even when it was him she trusted most. And the worst part had been that he had trusted her right back, and she abused that trust.

Only hours ago, she’d left him with a hole in his chest where what he thought she’d given him had been ripped away in almost an instant. Suddenly his fears became her own and what a rebel captain had once told her on a cold Hoth night almost two weeks ago punched a matching hole in her as well:

If you had died believing you had nothing…I’d never have forgiven myself for that.

Jyn Erso had fallen in love with Cassian Andor. And she had never told him before he died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your angsty author delivered, didn't she?
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please let me know how I'm doing in the review section!
> 
> Next update: Some badass Jyn and dealing with grief. (And for all those who need to know, the chapter after next is when we will see a certain someone again. Sorry for the spoiler, but I don't want to lose readers over a miscommunication :) )


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: G'day mates! Welcome back to our journey of angst. Pleasure to have you as always! Enjoy Jyn's hacking skills, Jecht's secret promise, and a Scarif-esque trick of deception as a tribute to Bodhi. Because nothing says "alliance" better than tricking Imperials into following false leads. (Also, had no idea this weekend was RebelCaptain Weekend, but in belated honor of the ship, here is our latest installment).

“Take this.” Jecht shoved a blaster into Jyn’s hands as they continued their run back towards the troops. “It should be loaded but test the caliber first—not in front of us! Jesus, Jyn! Aim back there somewhere.”

Jyn huffed and pointed the gun back towards the beam they’d just past and fired a round. A volley of lasers catapulted into the structure until smoke billowed after them and Jyn relaxed off the trigger.

“When our path is blocked by debris, you’ll have wished I’d fired ahead to clear it.” She holstered her weapon in the loop on her vest where she could snatch it if she needed to. Right now, though, it was just throwing her balance off.

“I’d like to keep my lungs clean, thanks,” Jecht remarked more in defense.

A flash of white was all it took for Jyn to launch herself into Jecht so they both went colliding towards the edge of the tunnel.

“What the fu—!”

“Troopers!” she hissed. “They’ve barricaded our way out! So unless you’ve got an FIM-43 on you somewhere to bazooka these bastards out of our way, I suggest we figure out an escape plan!"

Com unit static buzzed from down the tunnel where the barricade had been erected. Jyn tried to peer around to see what they were up against, but Jecht pushed her back against the wall. 

“Oh, no you don’t,” he scolded. “You’re sick and I’m closer.”

He tilted out of their hiding spot until his pupils were level with the minimal line of vision around the wall. Jyn scanned the tunnel while she waited, looking for any abandoned speeders they could use. But, of course, Xone and her men had all fastened themselves to the last remaining engines in this fort on their way to load and commandeer rescue ships. 

“Alright,” Jecht scooted back around, inching them both deeper into cover. “There’s about forty of them in our path. If we can get at least half of them to scatter, we’ll have a decent shot of busting out of here.”

“You do realize that would still leave about twenty men with loaded guns?”

“I don’t hear any better plans from your direction.”

Their odds weren’t great, but if they could halve the amount of firepower in front of them, it was sure as hell better than anything she could come up with. 

“Fine,” she conceded. “What’s your plan?”

“You,” he deadpanned.

“Excuse me?”

Jecht shushed her when a couple of troopers ambled their way. In softer amplitudes he continued. “You’re a systems coder, remember?”

Jyn scoffed at him. “Did you happen to hide a computer up your ass that I don’t know about? How in the Force do you expect me to tap in to their systems?”

“With this.” From his hand dangled the spiral cord of a comlink.

“Where did you get that?” She jabbed her index finger at the offending object.

“Does it matter?”

“Jecht.”

“I think you know. And I think you know that you know, too.”

Jyn did know. As she watched it swing from the web between his fingers, Jyn wasn’t sure if she could bring herself to take it. How many times had he called her on that to check in from a mission? Or to receive status report from her own mission?

How many times had he spoken into the microphone of that comlink, filling the holes of the device with a voice that would never speak again?

How many distress calls had he sent out from it that fell on deaf ears? Calls for a rescue that would never come.

“Jyn.”

“I can’t. Not with that.” She could feel her breathing slipping away from her again. “Jecht.” Her hand bunched in his sleeve as she struggled to shrink her lungs. 

“Hey,” he wrested her around in front of him by the collar of her shirt. “I need you to get a grip or you’re going to blow our cover.”

“Stimulant,” she gasped when she finally could. She knew Jecht would understand. If they could get their hands on a hypospray for a stimulant injection, perhaps they could stave off these episodes as her septicemia progressed for at least a couple of hours.

“I bet we can find some in whatever supplies they have up there. But we need to get to them first, alright?” Jecht pushed the small black comlink into her hand and peered over his shoulder again to double check that their company hadn’t caught wind of their existence.

Jyn nodded deftly and tried to work past the shaking of her hands to get to the wires of the comlink there. She remembered one course on Imperial wiring by a visiting defector back in her training days at Echo base, but recalling how exactly to sync an alliance com unit to imperial readings would certainly prove a little more difficult. 

Unclipping the back, she prodded the sheets of circuit boards until the one corresponding to signaling slotted between her fingers. The thin copper conductive pads etched little patterns into her fingers. Jyn displaced a few of the nonconductive resistors and went straight to work. 

“Our fuse is running out, here, Erso,” Jecht mumbled nervously from his perch at the edge of their hideaway.

“Give me—a few more minutes of—of tinkering.” While her fingers worked, so did her diaphragm. 

“There,” she shoved the last integrator into place with a satisfied smirk before thumbing the laminated sheet back into its com sleeve.

She nudged the power switch into gear and swiveled the dial at the top back and forth a few times until static gave way to voices.

“—around the eastern border of sector six, nearing the hangars!”

“That’s it!” Jecht celebrated softly into the shell of her ear while Imperial soldiers continued to exchange intel.

“Roger that, Unit Four. This is Ground Unit Thirteen reporting rebel sightings now outside the tunnel systems. Once we broke their front line, troops scattered. Requesting air support to the breeched walls—we have to cut off their routes so they’re forced back towards our barricades.”

Casting one more glance at Jecht for permission, Jyn pulsed a finger into the reception gauge.

“Ground Unit Thirteen, copy that. This is Space Force Seven sending reinforcements your way.” Jyn’s voice wavered imperceptibly. She needed to make it sound like troops were on their way so real ones weren’t deployed. Not to mention, she was confident the signal would only pick up general frequencies and not every detail that betrayed her lies, so she continued. 

“Rebels spotted near sector thirteen! There appears to be a ship buried there that they are attempting to commandeer! Send reinforcements immediately!”

Her finger relaxed off the com and she and Jecht waited with bated breath. Images of Scarif shadowed behind closed lids every time she blinked.

“Space Force Seven what is your status?”

Without warning, Jecht grabbed the com unit and jammed a thumb over the receiver. “We’re being overrun! Troopers stationed on the ground, requesting immediate deployment of any men you can spare!”

From down the hall, troopers began assembling and gathering gear. Jyn poked one eye around the corner to see their commander readying a response. “This is Ground Unit Seven deploying troopers on the way to sector thirteen! GU-7 to Base, GU-7 to Base.”

A flock of troopers began clanking down the hallway towards them, jogging in sync. 

“GU-7 this is Base, we read you.” A female voice spoke through their com. Jyn tried to stifle the noise by stuffing the receiver under her vest while half of GU-7 raced past them towards a fake distress call. 

The commander of the ground unit had stayed behind. Jecht had been nearly right. More than half of the troopers paraded down the hallway.

Jyn waited to hear what the commander was notifying an Imperial base about. It was strange to hear his voice both on the comlink and down the hall at staggered times as the delay registered.

“This is GU-7 Commander reporting the supply raid as incomplete. Rebel food and medical storages have been completely emptied or destroyed.”

The woman at the imperial base responded. “Understood, Commander. We will send a distress signal to headquarters for immediate supply reimbursement. Please arrange your injured to be airlifted for treatment.”

Jyn’s fingers had frozen over the com unit. A hand materialized around her fingers and worked them away from the mould they’d formed. She was stuck between a place of peace and panic.

If what they heard was correct, then the imperial-sieged Echo base on Hoth had also run out of supplies. They must have conducted a sweep of the underground systems in search of more medicine and food when they discovered the power siphon. Their attack on the secret rebel stronghold was both aggressive and defensive. They were looking to raid their supplies. 

And that could only mean one thing. There was no bacta left on Hoth…anywhere. 

“It’s fine,” Jyn assured Jecht as he prised her hand from Cassian’s old comlink. She wasn’t sure she needed the assurance herself. Without bacta, Jyn was walking and breathing on borrowed time. And as much as she feared Hoth becoming her icy tomb, she couldn’t shake the comfort of being with Cassian again soon.

“It’s not fine,” Jecht growled. “It’s not fucking fine at all, Jyn, do you hear me? You never struck me as the ‘giving up’ type.”

She wrested her hand from his grip. “Don’t you dare try and talk to me about giving up when I have nothing left to give!”

“Your life, Jyn! Your life is what’s left!”

Suddenly, the pieces all cascaded into place. Jyn’s face fell and she regarded her comrade knowingly. 

“What did he make you promise.” It wasn’t a question.

Jecht turned an icy gaze toward Jyn. “I don’t know what you’re—” 

“What did Cassian make you promise, Jecht!” 

He drew in a tight breath. “To make sure you lived. Not just survived. But actually lived, Jyn.”

She knew she should have reacted. Hell, she wanted to react—to feel that pain again so she could feel something. But she felt hollow. The words struck no cord with her. 

Jecht’s lips pressed together in the silence Jyn refused to fill. “One day, he told me…one day he hoped you’d find your father and go home—away from this war.”

Finally Jyn spoke, her voice a withering prayer. “He was my home.”

“And you were his.” Jecht shook his head. Something in his voice more complicated than disappointment or guilt was audible between his words. But Jyn’s perceptiveness had slipped, either in grief or sickness, she could neither tell nor care.

“But I made him a promise, and I intend to keep it. Which is a lot easier when you are alive to begin with, so—” He pocketed the comlink and drew her up by her elbow so she stood next to him in a thin stance. “Let’s start with survival and then I’ll see about a real life after that, hmm?”

Jyn gave him a small smile. “There’s no bacta left, General. But for the sake of keeping your conscience clear, I’ll go as far as I can.”

Jecht lifted his chin in chagrin so he caught her in a judging angle. “No, Jyn, that’s not enough. No one ever survives without a real reason to fight. Do it for your father. Live so he can live.” 

“Let’s go,” she gave him a little push so he would stop preaching the same song and dance to her. She would live because it was practical, not because she wanted to. Jyn knew she owed her father. So she would help him escape, give a few smiles to Jecht so he could sleep peacefully at night, and then square away with her own conscience later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daddy Erso keeping his daugher's hopes up!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Next update: A CERTAIN SOMEONE IS NOT DEAD. I know we all missed him; I sure have. Let's bring him back, yes? #ANGST #WHUMP
> 
> Review for me like one of your French girls.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Good morrow, readers! So sorry for late postings recently! Moved back to school and kinda had my life in boxes and suitcases for a while. Please enjoy the latest installment. I apologize for any spelling errors! It's late here and I am typing drunk off exhaustion. But this chapter was worth it because, hot diggity dog, we have a reunion to take care of! Enjoy

The two rebel soldiers had managed to make it through the last line of troopers blocking their tunnel after a little more than half broke off towards the tunnel’s entrance. 

Jyn hated to admit that she was becoming more and more of just dead weight to Jecht, but her stubborn friend would not entertain leaving her behind. 

It was no surprise that he managed to take down twice as many troopers compared to Jyn…and the commander as well. 

They had stormed out of their hiding spot wielding blasters and batons on the unsuspecting and greatly-diminished trooper force blocking their path. 

Usually, Jyn would have felled just as many, if not, more, troopers than her older and slower and retired comrade. But her muscles were sluggish, her limbs heavy, her breathing ragged. 

Jecht actually had to rescue her once, for kriff’s sake. 

When all of the imperial soldiers had been felled, Jecht and Jyn continued down the path at a slower than ideal pace while Jyn caught her breath. 

A cold draft was billowing dow the hallway, blustering and catching in their clothes like parachutes. It created a stiff drag that made running even more difficult. Bloody awesome.

It must have been from where the walls of the tunnel had been bombed.

Every so often, Jecht would use the rewired com to report in to Imperial forces about another phantom sighting of rebels in hopes of clearing a path for the actual rebels ahead. But all Jyn could focus on was the taxing effort of putting one foot in front of the other. 

After a few minutes of running, noises of fighting echoed from up ahead. They were close to the end lines now where Lieutenant Sarlin’s men were guarding everyone’s six. 

They could only hope that the rest of the rebels made it far enough ahead that they evaded confrontation with the Empire. And if they were really lucky, perhaps Xone and her troops had managed to seize some ships for rescue. 

It stirred something in Jyn to know that some rebels could potentially be far in hyperspace by now. They’d been stranded on Hoth for so long that any rebel victory was also a personal one. 

“Jecht, look out!” Jyn shouted when a metallic glint reflected in her eye. 

They’d finally caught up. And blasters were already pointed at them. 

He managed to parry the shot with the rifle he’d stolen from a felled trooper, but it left a melting hole that was dangerously close to the barrel. One more shot to his weapon and it would be incapacitated.

Jyn raised her own and began squeezing out rounds with her trigger fingers. 

Rebels and imperials were battling for life before them—some man-to-man combat, but most ducking for cover and sending shots toward enemy territory when a lapse in firing occurred—or else, launching remaining hand grenades that Xone’s men didn’t take towards Empire ships. 

One of Jyn’s shots struck true in the chink of trooper armor and sent him flying into the wall where he slumped motionless. But her true victory was the shot that managed to lodge itself into the barrel of another soldier’s gun. 

There, it ignited the rest of his blaster powder and the gun burst like a grenade, taking out four more soldiers in its radius. 

She was about to move forward again to continue pushing progress with Sarlin’s group when a rough kick to the back sent her flying forward into the frozen ground. 

Jyn rolled herself around just in time to evade another kick that would have made landfall in her ribs. She rolled onto her back before hiking her weight up and forward so she landed on her heels. 

An imperial soldier had taken advantage of her blind spot. What he didn’t know was that he’d also succeeded in targeting the weak link—taking advantage of her illness as well.

She was slower, and therefore less equipped to dodge and attack with as much force. So she would need to be smart about how she won her battles. 

Wit would be her weapon. It was not something she was used to resorting to when, her whole life, she’d been trained in brawns. But right now, with her life, and possibly Jecht’s and her father's, on the line, what choice did she have?

There was a large sewage pipe some several meters away that disappeared into black nothingness below the tunnel. Jyn assumed it was some extension of this system. 

She’d seen the pothole coverings that Rosado had had installed closer to their stronghold so that unsuspecting rebels wouldn’t fall down them while on their rounds around their secret base. But now that they had left their little camp far behind them, the holes loomed every couple hundred meters like gaping black mouths. 

Slowly but surely, she navigated her steps so that she and her pursuer fought closer and closer to the pipe. 

Unfortunately, with her attention diverted, Jyn took a few hits. One landed in her abdomen. Two jabbed her kidneys. And another seasoned kick to her shins had her down on her knees again. 

Just before the soldier could send a finishing punch to her nose, Jyn yanked on his trousers and rolled back on her heels until her back was flush with the ground and the all of the soldier’s weight was nearly on top of her.

Using the momentum she’d already built up by rolling backwards, she extended her arms out over her head, dragging the soldier over her torso and flinging him back. Jyn gave a wild cry as the muscles in her chest and arms tore with the effort, but let her survival adrenaline finish the job.

She waited to hear his disappearing cries down the tunnel, but instead found his hand slotted against the edge of the tunnel as he dangled. 

Bastard had managed to catch himself, and his other hand seized Jyn’s pant cuff and yanked hard. In desperation, she dug her nails into the frozen cement and earned herself bloody fingertips as they did absolutely nothing to stop her from being dragged after the soldier.

With her free leg, she stomped her boot into the man’s face, smashing his nose with a satisfying snap. He screamed and lost his grip on the ledge, but not on Jyn’s leg.

All two-hundred pounds of man dislodged from the edge of safety and catapulted down towards the yawning hole. Air whistled past Jyn’s ears as she slid after him, rolling her ankle and heel fervently in a last ditch effort to break free.

But by the time she managed to loose the bruising fist from her leg, the disappearing ledge was out of arms' reach.

She’d failed. And now her father, and possibly Cassian’s best friend, would pay for her negligence. Every guilt coursed through her like voltage. It had barely finished its lightning sting when she felt her arm nearly yanked from its socket.

Jyn’s eyes snapped open and her weight went careening into the side of the tunnel instead of down it. She collided with a grunting thud against the side of the tunnel and found she was dangling over where the imperial soldier had just fallen to his death.

Her breath nearly lodged in her throat when she finally looked up.

“Jyn!” A very vivid, very real, very scared Cassian Andor called down to her, both his hands wrapped tight around her wrist. “Jyn, are you alright!"

She dangled from his grip, stunned for a moment. He seemed so far away.

“’S not possible,” she garbled as he began scooting away from the edge to hull her back up.

Jyn felt something warm drip onto her face as the blackness disappeared from her around her feet. With her free hand, she wiped away at her cheek and didn’t quite register it was red.

“Give me your other hand. Jyn!” Cassian’s frantic voice pulled her back to reality. “Your other hand!” 

She stared at the glistening smear on her fingertips to look for answers. Did she fall down that tunnel after all? Was this death? 

As long as Cassian was there, Jyn didn’t care what world she was in, or on for that matter.

When she didn’t obey, he reached down—nearly toppling in, himself—and snagged her fingers in his before hoisting her the rest of the way out of the dank tunnel.

Jyn spilled out overtop of a very solid Cassian as she was scooped from the abyss and they both fell backwards, his chest cushioning her fall. He was warm. Not charred, not cold in death—warm. Alive?

Distantly, she noticed Cassian maneuvering them so they were out of the way of the fighting, tucked in a corner for a moment’s respite. He pulled her against him.

“Mierda! What are you doing here? Are you alright?” He repeated, pushing the hair out of her eyes and ducking to see them. “Hey,” he urged as his hands roamed over her, searching for injuries. “Rhane contacted me on my com system and assured me that you’d reported for duty.”

Careful phrasing kept her from knowing that it was he who had contacted Rhane, and not the other way around. But why would he lie about Jyn’s status? It was a question for another time, his attention seized immediately back by the sound of a feeble voice that made his chest tighten.

“Dead.” Jyn could feel her hands shaking. She looked at them, scared as to why she couldn’t get them to stop. 

“What?” 

"You—you were dead. You’d died!”

That stopped him. He peered at her in earnest. “I’m here, Jyn. I’m right here.” 

“No!” She scrambled back. “No—not on Scarif! It’s not about Rogue One! You—it was you, this time! It was real!”

Cassian shushed her delicately so they weren’t discovered.

He seemed to suddenly notice her tremor-ridden hands because somehow they ended up enveloped in one of his while his other folded against her jaw, trying in earnest to get her to look at him. “Jyn. You’re going into shock, I need you to breathe, Jyn.“

She gasped where she sat almost cradled against his chest, trembling all over. 

“Force, your hands are freezing—and…burned? Jyn, why are your hands burned. Kriff. Breathe, that’s it. Come on.”

Her gaze clicked with his worried one and something settled into place. She shoved her hand through his grip and stamped it through the slight gap in his jacket zipper so it sealed over his sternum. When warm, solid beats of his heart shoved back against her palm in steady thrums, Jyn’s hand bunched a fist into the fabric of his shirt and she squeezed her eyes into blackness, shutting out everything else except Cassian’s heartbeat.

At some point, tears had leaked out of her eyes and Cassian had collected her into his chest. It was better that he closed the space between them because Jyn was still having a hard time moving, but she needed to snug her arms around him—she needed him to know how sorry she was that she’d almost lost him like that—heartbroken and angry with each other. 

But she had no recollection of when she’d stopped or started, just that, after a few breaths spent on her apologies, Cassian held her tightly to him and began chiming in with his usual Festian to calm her down.

He glanced over her shoulder, keeping hard gazes on the fight playing out in case he needed to move them again. But Jyn couldn’t bring herself to care.

All Jyn could do was hold on with as much strength as she could muster and bury her nose in his neck as she did her absolute damnest to stave off tears, digging her fingers into the solidity of his back. If she was hurting him, he didn’t say so. Her mind replayed one thought over and over again that she’d been denying for far too long.

Force, she loved him. She loved him.

He stiffened around her, his foreign words coming up short. 

She was about to make a mental note to learn more of his language when she realized something. At first she’d worried that a trooper had discovered them. Then a different thought dawned on her. 

Had she said that out loud?

Jyn pulled away, face red and heart pounding. Shavit. ShavitShavitShavit.

“You’re hurt,” she diverted as she remembered the blood that had dripped onto her face from when he’d pulled her up.

Cassian gently knocked her hand away from where blood stained the bottom of his ribs. There was a light in his eyes Jyn had never seen before and a flex in his lips she’d missed for many months. His hand slid over her cheek with careful tenderness that Jyn was not used to and he started to say something, “Te am—“ but was interrupted by a sudden movement.

There wasn’t much time to reconcile their mistakes and misgivings about each other’s safety because a soldier had found them out with the barrel of his blaster.

Immediately, Jyn felt herself shoved backwards as Cassian rolled over her, pressing her body into the frozen ground with his chest while the heat of an imperial laser glanced off his back, his arms caged around her. 

When he let out a gasp of pain, Jyn was shook from her reverie. Suddenly she was transported back to the hot beaches of Scarif—to the very reason she was alive today. And the fear of that memory was almost disabling.

“Cassian!” She tried to scold him, but it sounded more urgent than she was used to hearing from herself. Another blast singed the air and Jyn tried to flip their positions, but Cassian silenced her efforts with an insistent knee to her thigh, pinning her down harder.

Just like Scarif. Just like Scarif. No, no, no—not again, no, NO! 

And then just like that he was up on his heels and gone from her side, taking all his warmth with him.

He didn’t like leaving her like this, knowing something wasn’t right—especially considering she had thought him to be dead. The way her hands had shaken, cold and weak, not like the strong fighter he knew—the way her eyes widened in panic as he pinned her beneath him, still reeling with the news of his apparent existence—it was terrifying to think of what his abandonment of her might do to her. When he’d promised he’d always come back for her, and then she was left thinking he’d left her forever—in only a few hours he’d almost broken her. 

Still, he knew what that felt like...after Scarif. He knew that kind of...disabling pain. But he wasn’t sure how much of it resonated in Jyn considering it was he who pushed her to accept the possibility of “them.”

But he also couldn’t let them be sitting ducks ripe for the plucking. And, as much as he wanted to hold her and be there for her—figure out what had happened these last two hours, assure her he was always coming back for her, check up on the new bacta patch she’d promised to get—one of them would have taken a blaster in, perhaps, a less than forgiving spot this time if they didn’t move.

Jyn, on the other hand, was still reeling. Captain Cassian Andor was alive. Cassian. Her Captain. Her Cassian. Alive.

Vaguely she heard Cassian urge her to move and take up arms again. She knew he was covering her as much as he could until she could gather her bearings. But even Jyn, in her stupefied haze, could see his resolve slipping as more troopers and soldiers discovered a rebel protecting a wounded and thus vulnerable one of his own. 

She was making him a target…

For Cassian’s sake, she had to get her ass up—lest the rest of the squadron light up the rebels’ weak link. Jyn had thought him dead once before, and she’d be damned if she had to go through that loss again, this time bearing witness to it. Again her thoughts refrained. It was the best anchor she had at the moment. Cassian Andor was alive. And Jyn Erso was going to keep it that way.

Her motions were automatic, without much of her own thought or intention necessary, thank Force. If it hadn’t been for her training with Saw, she would have surely fallen victim to her own emotions and been vaporized by a trooper for her inertia.

Jyn raised her blaster and watched her shot mow over another soldier. Her next shot wasn’t as lucky—still making contact, but not enough to incapacitate her target.

The imperial officer rocketed forward from where he’d stumbled after being shot and raised both arms, double fisting weapons.

Oh, so not fair.

To make things worse, her vision suddenly swirled and her knees buckled, but Jyn grit her teeth and managed to stay standing. Her muscles were fatiguing much more rapidly, and Jyn knew it had everything to do with the dark wound festering beneath her shirt. How much fuse her wick had left, Jyn had no idea. But she realized just how soon it was going to putter out and leave her wasted on the battlefield.

Diving out of the way just before she could be smoked, she felt herself topple into a fleshy weight.

“Shavit, Erso, what are you—“

“Duck!” She ordered the stranger who most likely wasn’t even a stranger if they knew her name. Thankfully, her vision was beginning to clear in time to see it was Lavidean Slahlvo.

Before she could lean over and finish the trooper off herself, Slahlvo had pumped twice over the trigger of his own rifle and landed two kisser shots right over the man’s breastplate.

Jyn slouched and let her back fall against the cover Slahlvo had found.

“You owe me,” he panted, “more ion charge for that shot.”

Slahlvo was busy stuffing more activator into his A280 blaster rifle when Jyn worked up the strength the respond.

“Give it a few days and, hell, I’ll let you keep all my weapons. Won’t be needing them anyways.”

Next to her, Slahlvo’s hand froze over his loading canister. “The Hell has gotten into you, Erso. I never knew you to be a defeatist.” The unvoiced question was loud in the hesitant contour of his words. He knew it, too. So he continued, hoping to cover it up. “And why aren’t you with your commanding officer? Where is Rhane?”

“You kidding?” Jyn smirked. “And let you bantha fodders have all the fun without me?” She shook her head. “Not a chance. Rhane’s whereabouts are of no concern to me. But I could ask the same for you—why aren’t you leading our forces?”

“Now you’re the one that’s got to be kidding, Erso.” He shouldered her back away from fire once again. “You worked under Rhane, you know if his ego were any larger, it wouldn’t fit in a combat helmet. We traded squads, and when Sepsom disappeared from our command, I sent Lieutenant Sarlin ahead with the second wave and fell back to look for where the hell all our officers went.”

“Disobeying Rosado’s orders,” Jyn clucked. “Seems as if the worst of me is rubbing off on you.” 

“You sure it’s not the best?”

Rubble rained overhead.

“I’ll fight you about it if we survive long enough to care about who’s right.”

At the audacity of her bluntness, Slahlvo quirked a brow. “Fair enough,” he settled for a shrug before rolling to a new cover for better shots.

Jyn regained control of her lungs and immune system long enough to do the same.

By the time they’d cleared the hallway of troopers, more blaster fire was ringing up ahead. They most likely had about fifteen minutes before they were submerged in full fledged battle again.

“Where is Xone with those retrieval shuttles?” Jecht hissed, glowering up at the shredded metal of the top of their once-sheltering tunnel system beneath Hoth. With all the recent bombings and fighting, there was little to keep a smattering of snow from dusting the ground beneath them.

Jyn leant against a beam, but squared her shoulders. There was still some fight left in her tank. She had more than one thing to fight for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cassian lives! But, as you can see, I've left Jyn in hot water. But hey, at least they're together for that, right?
> 
> Next update: Our rebels need to get off this planet. But it's gonna take some fighting and some ANGST (of course).
> 
> Thank you for your loyalty to my story! Feed me some of your thoughts in the review section


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So sorry for late posting; I haven't forgotten about you guys/this story! Actually been thinking about it a lot because I think we can all agree that reading/writing keeps us sane sometimes, and gosh do I need sanity right now because I have exams this week and next. But I made time in my evening tonight to update on our favorite rebels!
> 
> Let's see what sorts of whump I've doled out for our rebels today. Because Jyn is not thriving, Cassian is not happy, and honestly, vice versa, because that's what mutual pining is all about, amiright?
> 
> As a side note, we are most likely looking at around 7 more chapters? So wrapping up shortly, but still plenty of angst to come ;) Enjoy:

“What’s your ammo count,” Jyn asked Jecht almost off-handedly as she continued unloading blaster juice from trooper weapons. 

“Ahh,” he groaned, “too low for comfort. Mind tossing me a bone, there?”

Jyn slid a heavier rifle over to him. “This one feels loaded. Haven’t checked it, yet. Make sure the safeties are clipped—”

“Jyn.”

Her hands froze over the loading barrel a DL-44 blaster. Warmth radiated through her vest at the newfound proximity. She hadn’t even heard him come up behind her. Distraction was never good.

One of his hands wound around her and prised her fingers from the gun until she set it down. “Can we talk?” He didn’t let go of her hand, instead pulling himself closer, the light pressure of his grip encouraging her to turn around.

She almost told him they could talk afterwards because she wasn’t sure she had the strength to endure another pseudo-argument with him, but she knew neither of them could count not there being an after. 

“There’s probably too much to say, right now,” she allowed, turning a fraction of an inch away from him to re-arrange her pile of firepower. 

He pinched her wrist this time. “Can we try?”

She sighed and rounded on him with resignation. “I guess we don’t have much of a choice, do we?”

There was a flicker of hurt in the eyes behind his bangs, which had fallen across his forehead from battle exertions. Jyn fought the urge to comb them back with her fingers—to let her fingers linger there and ease the worry hardening his features with a few strokes of her fingers through his hair.

“You thought I was dead.” Cassian deadpanned. He searched her.

“And that’s my cue,” Jecht reminded as he sidled away from the table, gun dangling from his hands with its jam cocked half open. “T minus seven until we mobilize, soldiers. So make this quick.”

Jyn listened to his footsteps fade into the background noise of far off fighting and the low murmurs of their comrades planning. 

“When I found out you’d taken my sentinel post,” Jyn started, “I…went back for you.” She twisted her lips, thinking how to continue. He simply watched her.

“We were attacked before I could open the gates, and you were…I saw—“ she took a shaky breath, finding it rather painful to remember what she thought she saw. “Whoever it was had been gunned down, Cassian—burned alive by Imperial ship fire. I was sure it was you—“ her voice bunged. But she managed to wrangle her emotions before they could topple further from her control. The burn over her hands throbbed as if to remind her.

Cassian moved to comfort her, but stepped back, unsure of himself. “You should’ve just followed your orders, Jyn. You were reckless to go looking for me. You could have gotten yourself killed—”

“Don’t lecture me, I’m not in the mood.”

“I know.”

Jyn stared at the ground, eyes vacant, before shrugging. “I was prepared to go down fighting—for you, for my father, for Jecht and Rogue One.”

Suddenly his voice sharpened. “Jyn, you don’t have to give yourself up for a cause all the time—”

“I couldn’t leave you,” Jyn gave it right back to him and tried, really tried to convey her anger, but instead she could feel her eyes burning. “Not that, Cassian. By now, you know not to ask that of me.”

It turned out she didn’t need to touch his face to ease the tensity of his muscles—his face softened and his lips parted either as a result of the sudden uncoiling of his features or because he wanted to say something. But he closed his mouth, a ripple just barely flickering through his jaw. Then he decided he did want to speak. 

“Neither can you ask acquiescence from me about this, Jyn. Force,” he scrubbed a hand down his face, “do you know how hard it is for me to—“ he trailed off, letting his agitated hand pull through his hair next, relieving Jyn’s urge to brush his hair aside. He rerouted. “I just still can’t figure out—why would Rhane let me know you’d reported for duty?” Cassian mused aloud, clearly opting to ignore that last statement. She could see they still had a lot to mend. 

“How are you faring,” he asked suddenly. His gaze traced her from the corner of his eyes, like he was unsure of giving her a direct contact. Even after she betrayed his trust this way, it was nice to know he still cared—she could see the worry drawing water from his skin. She could tell he wanted to check her hands again, or maybe her shoulder, but honestly it was all just water under the bridge at this point.

“Surviving.” She told the truth. He still didn’t know the extent of her infection—how it had breached her bloodstream—how the last bacta patch on Hoth was either stolen or already used up. “But I’m not the one bleeding.”

Jyn stepped forward and pushed his jacket from his torso to better see the red that darkened his shirt. Her stomach pitched. “Dammit, Cassian.” As gingerly as she could, she collected the fabric in her hands and hefted the fabric upwards. 

A dark burn wound charred its way from the cartilage of his fifth rib all the way down to his ninth. She could tell he was trying not to wince.

“’S nothing,” he almost laughed and she almost punched him for it. Jyn’s hand came away way too red.

“You’re losing a lot of blood—I think it’s time we demote you to the back of the lines,” Jyn finished speaking before using her teeth to tear a layer from the bottom of his shirt to tie around his ribs. But when she reached around to secure the knot, she did not miss how wet his back was as well.

“Shavit!” 

More blood bloomed down Cassian’s back. But she’d hadn’t seen it because of his jacket.

“It’s not deep, Llita.”

“Stow it, Cassian.”

“I mean it.”

Jyn shucked his jacket off and was never happier to be proven wrong. Part of her knew it must not have been that deep considering it hadn’t bled through his jacket yet. But it was no help remembering why he had this newest injury in the first place: he’d taken the blaster fire after they’d been discovered.

When she froze at the memory, Cassian used that lapse to re-don his jacket.

“I’ve just received confirmation!” A voice boomed from over incoherent comm chatter. “Xone Kasra and her team have secured two retrieval vessels, and judging by the flare placement, they’re on their way—we’re wheels-up in fifteen minutes!”

“Imperial forces will be here in ten.” Jecht shouldered his newly loaded rifle and tapped his wrist.

“Then we fight them off as long as we can and then get the kriff off this god-forsaken ice dump of a planet,” Slahlvo spoke for everyone.

“Everyone,” Cassian stepped forward, his stance tall and accent thick with authority. “Arm yourselves and form layers of barricades—keep to the edges where they can’t circle around us and hopefully we’ll have clear landing spots for the retrieval ships. Someone get a flare up so Kasra and her teams can punch our coordinates.”

“Aye, Captain!” A few of the men began hoisting large pieces of rubble to form forts at the tunnel walls. Some even used the ice chunks that had once helped bury this station and had since caved in with the attacks.

Jyn filed in behind a few rebels near the front, knowing they’d have to stronghold the first defenses well if they ever hoped to escape with Xone. 

As the last few barricade pieces were hulled into place and the few soldiers she was with began exchanging ammo to ensure it was evenly distributed, Jyn felt a pressure on her forearm whirl her around.

Cassian had materialized behind her and looped her waist with one hand to tug her into him. Their lips met and Cassian’s other hand firmed behind her neck. Jyn felt her eyes slide close and she melted against him, wishing with every fiber she had that they could be anywhere else. 

His lips were soft but insistent against her own with the frightening kind of deliberateness. It was a kiss that was long overdue, but full of a pain they both carried for one another, timed in a way that made her heart stutter out of fear for its meaning—that felt too much like a kind of insurance just in case something happened. 

“What was that for?” She breathed when he broke away.

“To apologize for what I should have said a long time ago.”

Jyn’s heart whirred, fear and anticipation dueling for control.

He pulled her closer but didn’t lean down so his lips grazed her temple where they whispered, “Te amo, mucho, amor de mi cielo.” 

“Basic, Cassian,” she rose to her tiptoes and pulled another hungry kiss from him. 

Still, when he pulled away to observe him, he quirked a smile at her comment but sobered quickly, this time leaning down to touch his forehead to hers so they shared each other’s breaths.

“I love you.”

Jyn fell back onto her heels, but couldn’t get far with Cassian’s arms snugged tight around her. His eyes bore a million different shades of tenderness. 

“What?”

“Jyn…a few months ago I—DUCK!”

Jyn felt herself shoved roughly into the barricade just as the charge of a blaster electrified the air. She recovered quickly in time to cruelly see Cassian take the full force of the blaster right over his other wound on his abdomen. He’d jolted at the impact and doubled over before collapsing to his knees, catching himself against the ice with a blood-soaked hand. His other had already fired a response shot, killing whoever had almost nailed Jyn in the back.

“Cassian!”

Jyn slid over to him so she could help him move all the way behind the barricade. Stupid, she was so stupid. She should have stayed in the back lines to ensure he’d listened to her. Now they were stuck up in the heat of the battle and Cassian could barely stand.

“Estoy bien,” he groaned and brushed her off to try and prove he was fine, but she noticed the hitch in his breathing that even the most trained intelligence officers couldn’t hide.

“Here,” she pressed her extra pistol into his hands and wrapped his fingers around the trigger. “Stay down and shoot anyone who gets past the barrier. If you so much as peek over that barricade, I’ll re-break your leg.”

“Mierda, Jyn.” Cassian’s words were almost drowned out by blaster fire, that was louder now that the guns they were coming from had drawn closer. “You terrify even me, sometimes.”

Jyn cracked a smile, but quickly returned to the fight, peering over the barricade to fire a few blasts into the ammo smoke of the approaching soldiers. They were emerging from the white haze of ice and blaster smoke in scary numbers. Suddenly, Jyn wondered what had become of the front lines they’d sent ahead.

There was a bit of a stand-off at first, with the rebels in full force firing at the waves of Imperial soldiers. But when some of their soldiers began to fall, the white armored lines slowly began to advance on them.

A shot singed over Jyn’s head just after she ducked beneath the barricade, earning her a strong glare from Cassian who was looking pale.

She could only hope that he just looked like crap and didn’t feel that way because she sure as hell was not thriving. In a few hours, the infection in her blood would progress to the rest of her system and her organs would shut down.

As if on cue, a wave of nausea hit her and dizziness rolled through her veins, pressing on them to cut off blood flow to her lungs. Her knees rolled and for the slightest hint of a moment she’d leaned against the balustrade before righting herself, hoping it would go unnoticed.

“Jyn?” Cassian caught her shoulder. Of course her little wilt had not been imperceptible to him.

“You notice too much,” she gasped and was so tempted to lean into Cassian’s hold on her. But she knew how weak he looked and did her best to stay level. The rebels needed every gun right now.

“What the hell was that?”

“Adrenaline left me for a second. I’m fine.”

“You know better,” he almost scoffed as his hands roamed her, looking for an injury he wouldn’t find—not a new one at least. She did know better than to try lying to him. One day, though, if she lived to see it, she would learn how to evade his intelligence detection.

When his hand probed her shoulder she tensed; his eyes darkened. 

“You don’t want to see that,” she promised.

But suddenly another wave hit her and she nearly passed out. Cassian launched himself forward and braced her when she slumped. Blaster fire was getting louder, and before Jyn could turn around to see, Cassian’s arm roped around her and he fired two, three shots at troopers who’d breached their first defense. Jyn assumed he hit them because he quickly returned his attention to where she gasped limply in his lap. 

If she could’ve reoriented herself she would have, but she felt heavy and useless as she struggled to draw a breath. 

Even in her state, she did not miss how damp the front of Cassian’s shirt was. She found the smallest bit of peace in noticing how cauterized the wound was from the burn. No doubt it hurt like hell, and she used all her focus in keeping her weight off his abdomen, but at least it was only bleeding minimally.

At this point there was no sense in stopping him from seeing the mess of wound on her shoulder, and when he pulled back her tunic, she watched as his lips parted in horror.

“Jyn,” he breathed, “what the hell have you done?”

This time it was Jyn’s turn to raise her arm to fire at an imperial soldier who hadn’t seen them but was running towards their men. But Cassian’s steadier arm rose over hers and beat her to it.

“Cover your ears,” he accented, pulling the pin out of a grenade he stole from his belt and launching it over the barricade. 

Jyn turned into him and covered her other ear with her free hand. 

When she felt him fold over her she removed her hand and her eyes fluttered, trying to focus on him. He was retrieving something from the side of his boot.

“You didn’t get a bacta patch, did you?” He accused, one hand gently keeping her down while the other fished around near his ankle.

“Th’re were—none—left,” she struggled. It wasn’t technically a lie.

“What?” That stopped him.

“Supply stores—d’pleted.” Why was it so hard to breathe? It was never this hard. Black dots fizzed around in her vision. Even Cassian was swirling above her. “Need—to leave—base any-any-an-,” bad idea. A rack of coughs that sounded more like chokes pulled blood from her throat. 

Vaguely she thought she heard Cassian swear in Festian and shift to help her breathe more easily.

She promptly swallowed the red on her tongue, hoping to stave off panic from the captain supporting her. But she knew she was in the end game now.

“Shh—quit trying to speak.“ He hoisted her closer and then shoved whatever things he’d grabbed from his boot into his mouth, fiercely biting something. 

“Stimulant,” he answered in anticipation of her unspoken question after he spit out the caps that had hooded the needles.

Three hyposprays filled with shockingly glittery liquid made themselves visible in his palm and Jyn actually wished she had enough energy to cry in relief. Tears were not her thing, but her and Cassian’s unspoken form of communication had literally saved each other’s lives from time to time. For now, it would probably only prolong it, but Jyn would be damned if she didn’t at least try to last as long as possible—at least, until they were out of the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Reviews are writing elixir for me!
> 
> Keep my writing plant hydrated :)
> 
> Next update: Another near-death scene (I promised happy endings only). Guess whose turn it is?


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, so sorry for late update! The semester is in full swing, and my job and my exams are keeping me pretty busy and tired these days. But I've returned! And with a hella long chapter chock full of angst! Literally, it doesn't get much angstier/whumpier than this. Keep my promises in mind, though: happy ending on the way...just not quite yet ;)

From behind the mist of her delirium, she felt the familiar callouses of Cassian’s hand run themselves down her arm and hike up her sleeve until the bottom of her shoulder poked out. Without coverage in the Hoth air, her warmth left her in rapid waves and it was all she could do not to shiver. 

“Here comes the poke.” Cassian worked quickly, but looked unsure about jabbing her. A pinch flared down the side of her arm, and she was too tired to flinch until Cassian plunged.

It was as if someone had turned on the lights and wiped off her corneas. Jyn’s lungs cleared of debris and she sucked in a grateful breath. Noises were amplified and Cassian’s worried but stern face swam into focus above her. The stimulant shook all her septicemic cobwebs from her veins just a little longer—this particular dose feeling stronger, crisper than usual. Energy hummed within her—literal energy.

“Force.” What in the hell was in that hypospray. There was no way that was standard-issue stimulant. She’d ask Cassian later.

“Hurry,” Cassian rubbed a palm down her arm, dragging her sleeve with it so she was covered again. “Two more—turn around and give me your other shoulder.”

But with Jyn’s wits returned, so, too, had her reflexes amped up again—just in time for her to grab a piece of debris and hoist it in front of them just before another round of blaster fire discovered them. Pops of heat slammed into her makeshift shield and sent rivulets of pain through her arms. A few more shots and the metal would have melted.

Thankfully, Cassian managed to find an opening to launch his last grenade he had when the firing stopped to recharge. Jyn kept their debris wedged in the ice until the grenade wave passed over them. 

“Jyn—!“

“Field medic treatment is going to have wait for now—”

It was amazing just how energized one stimulant poke could make her.

Most of their team had fallen back a few levels as the Imperial forces advanced, but a select few remained in the front tiers likewise nursing wounds or trying to rouse a felled soldier—situations keeping them trapped on the front lines.

“Erso!” Jyn whipped around, keeping low but high enough to see Jecht taking aim at a pocket of Imperials. “I’ll cover you—get your asses in retreat, we’ve got Republic cruisers touching down a few coordinates behind us and they’re not waiting for MIA-ers.”

A nod to let him know she copied was all Jecht needed to shift all his attention to the soldiers in pursuit.

“Can you walk?” Jyn turned back to Cassian, her eyes making a quick circuit of his weary stance against the barricade, lingering a bit on what messy work she’d made of his bandage. 

“Sí, pienso que sí.” His tone was affirmative, but the fact that he’d answered her in Festian did not make Jyn all that confident in his answer. But her doubts were put to rest for the time being when he straightened his legs and fired a few shots at Jecht’s targets to add to their cover.

The pressure of a ship’s hover plate allowing itself to lower shoved air down the tunnel so Jyn and Cassian were running against a bit of a current. Xone’s retrieval ships were here. And they were making landfall a safe distance away. 

The only downside to that meant they had a ways to run—and they could only go without cover for so long before Imperial fire would start to complicate their escape. 

Jyn dove behind one of the last piece of their barricade in the back when she heard the chink of a grenade detonating. Cassian fell in beside her, and across the way they could make out Jecht and Slahlvo trying very hard to share a small piece of rubble.

The cement balustrades supporting the tunnel above them groaned. Chunks of ice were slipping through the holes.

As soon as the heat dissipated Cassian looked up at the cracks rapidly appearing overhead. “This whole place is going to come down. We need to keep going— now, while the smoke is still clearing! They won’t have a clean shot.” 

Jyn knew he was right, and she could make out Xone’s ship in the distance. Jerikko was a smudge against the loading dock, taking in the conditions of battle-weary rebels on a health panel for later treatment. But she almost wished K2 were here to let them know if it was worth the risk. Cassian nudged her forward when she hesitated and casted a wary look at him.

“I’m right behind you,” he urged with surprising coherence. “I’ll cover us, go!”

Jyn launched herself forward again with the captain on her heels sending shots at their six. Jecht and Slahlvo were already in pursuit of the ship as well, several paces ahead of them. A few erratic shots blazed through the smoke and debris around them, cutting little tunnels of light and burning the smog. 

Jyn’s legs had never worked faster. The ceiling groaned again. Large slabs of roof and ice shattered and warped around them. 

“Come on!” Jerikko yelled at them. The hiss of the doors preparing to close was the best and the worst motivation. Her heart was clogging up her trachea until air was having a damn hard time getting to her lungs. Triko Rhane was also at the mouth of the ship, loading weapons and taking stock of ammo.

Jyn was not ready to face the charges of insubordination against her leading officer. But right now he was just another rebel fighting for his life.

A final groan sent the tunnel caving in on itself. Jyn summoned whatever adrenaline she had left from the stimulant she’d been injected with. She was beginning to wish they’d had the time for her to dose with all three. The effects of this one would wear off too quickly at this rate.

A huge chunk of ice smashed only feet away from her own feet. Jyn bounded over a hurdle of what looked like used to be part of a ship. The noise was deafening and she could no longer hear the words making Jerikko’s mouth move. Slahlvo had just reached the ramp and turned around to help Jecht who’d likewise stopped to see where Jyn and Cassian were. 

Jyn nearly collapsed by the time she reached the ramp. Her ears were ringing so all of Jerikko’s questions went unanswered. But one. One question she never had to hear for an answer to already be forming in her muscles.

Jecht was peering over her, face blackened with soot and red decorating his uniform with more authority than any stripe or badge. 

Three words from Jecht was all it took and Jyn was on her feet again, lungs fluttering in sheer terror at the answer she was terrified to find.

Where is Cassian?

Jyn had launched herself back over the side of the loading ramp before Jecht or Jerikko could stop her. Behind her, she just knew Rhane would be shouting orders at his sergeant to get back in line, but the only order she could follow was the one pulling her back toward the gun fire, back into the debris, away from the carrier…for Cassian.

Because he always came back for her. And she would do the same. 

She cursed herself for even letting him run behind her in the first place—for not checking to make sure he always always following her. 

A flash of gold caught her eye through a forest of twisted metal. Cassian’s captain stripes. 

Jyn immediately changed directions, knowing she’d have to find another way around. Quite a bit of ice blocked her path to where she hoped Cassian was, but she leapt over each shard with the last of her stimulant and absolute terror keeping her energized.

“Jyn?!”

“Cassian!” He had spotted her before she could re-locate him. She slid to a stop, dropping to her knees in front of him. “Oh my God, Cassian!”

He was flat on his back, a sheen of sweat covering his face and darkening the front of his shirt from when he must’ve tried to muscle his way out. Just above his hips he was pinned underneath a frozen chunk of the tunnel that had fallen in the explosions. His legs were mostly buried but she could make out the fabric covering his left leg under a dusting of snow. 

The new addition of blood down his temple was also worrying.

“¡Maldita sea!” His face was pale, but his eyes were dark with worry and…fear? It suddenly hit her—Cassian was expecting to die here. He’d already made his peace with it. And now she was here, too. “What are you doing here, Jyn?”

Jyn was ignoring him for the time being, looking for something to use as leverage. Blaster fire was growing louder behind them, but it was still a ways off.

“You should not be here, right now! I’m serious, Jyn!” Cassian had managed to grab her arm with one of his hands. She stilled long enough to glare at him when he said, “Get out of here, now!”

“We’ve been here before, Cassian,” she leaned forward enough to silence him, shivering a little when she remembered how she’d found him all those days ago in the glacial cave. At least now he looked alive. “Do you honestly think I would ever leave you behind?”

“This is not like the glacier. The ship, Jyn, you have to get on the ship—it’s leaving!” He pleaded with her. One of his hands found her jaw and cupped where it met her neck in earnest. “And you’re going back and you’re going to get on it.” 

“Not without you!” 

He shook his head. “I won’t be the reason you miss your only way off this planet. Please,” his voice broke. “Get out of here.”

Before either of them could think too hard about it, Jyn leaned down and silenced him with her lips. Surprisingly, he returned the kiss, but still bore a pained expression. “Never without you,” she whispered against his neck after pulling away to embrace him. “Jecht knows I went back to find you. He’ll tell them to hold the ship.”

“Jyn—”

“No! I’m not leaving you, so shut the hell up and help me find something to lift this off of you—we’re getting on that carrier…together.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but he must’ve known it would have gotten him nowhere. Jyn was resolute. The thought of being on a ship racing into hyperspace while Cassian was left behind for the empire almost sent her into another panic.

“I think there’s a ledge just under this rock that would give you the best grip.” Cassian motioned near where he was pinned. Jyn spotted an outcropping from the rubble that was pinning him that looked to be her best bet for heaving underneath of it. 

“Alright,” she hastened, “on the count of three, we’re both going to lift up. If I push up and back enough, I think we can get you out.”

“Ready.” He nodded.

“One, two…three!” Both captain and sergeant strained beneath the weight of their task. After a few seconds, Jyn felt the slab begin to shift. Jyn chanced a look to see Cassian beginning to maneuver himself inch-by-inch out from under the debris, slowly so as to make sure he never let up on his end of lifting. 

Just as Cassian was about to finish scooting out from where he’d been pinned, she watched as his eyes widened in terror. 

Her name was on his lips just before she turned around and dodged the swipe of a three foot vibrosword from an imperial soldier that had appeared out of nowhere. 

Without intending to, Jyn’s grip slipped and the debris fell back onto Cassian’s knee this time as she leapt out of the way, hoping to draw the man’s attention away from her pinned captain. But this man was stranger than the other soldiers, donned in a hood instead of helmet and armor.

She reached into her belt and yanked out a blaster, taking aim at the hooded figure that had appeared behind them while she’d been trying to free Cassian.

Three blasts erupted from the barrel of her gun, each deflected by the vibrosword except the last that glanced off his ribs. The man hissed and Jyn fumbled with the charger. There was no way she would prep another clip in time. Suddenly a leg barreled around and caught her densely in the midriff. Jyn’s guard buckled, so even when she raised her arm to fire more shots, she heard Cassian shout in warning.

“Jyn, look out!”

The man had reared an arm back and sent a fist into her cheek. Her head snapped to the side and her body whipped around after. Jyn went sprawling into the wall, her blaster clattered from her hand. The man kicked it under an ice chunk.

“Stay out of the way. I’m not here for you yet.” That voice. It was familiar. Why was it familiar?

From where she laid, her head and vision swimming, she strained to see that Cassian was still struggling to unpin his leg from the debris. Their eyes met long enough for Cassian to quickly beg her to stay put with a stern gaze. But she knew he was nowhere near to getting free yet. 

Whoever this imperial loyalist was, Jyn knew they were not honorable enough to let their trapped opponent free first—they would run him through. They were going to kill him.

She had to buy him more time. Besides, the fiend clearly stated he wasn’t hear for her. 

Reaching behind her, Jyn drew out her emergency vibroblade. Against a sword, it would not get very far, but Jyn was small and could use that to her advantage, getting in tight where a sword lost its power. 

As quietly as possible, she pushed herself to her feet and wrapped a tight grip around the hilt. She was within arm’s reach of the man and had raised her arm to strike when suddenly the man stiffened and whipped around. 

Jyn narrowly missed being gutted by mere inches, arcing away from the blade only to deal her own blow that was knocked away.

Only one thought was on her mind while she struggled to keep up in the fight: buy him time; buy him time; buy him time. She was doing her best to keep the man distracted long enough for Cassian to find a way free.

And then it happened. The last of the stimulant Cassian had injected her with flooded from her system and Jyn stumbled. The edge of her foot caught on an ice chunk and her flank was left vulnerable. And whoever was after Cassian had noticed before Jyn could correct herself. 

A flash of silver. A jolt of impact. And then a burning pressure. It exploded through the left half of her abdomen, the side she’d left unprotected, stealing all the breath from her lungs. 

 

“JYN!”

 

Cassian had been splitting his attention between freeing himself from his trap and keeping an eye on Jyn. But now his eyes were on the blade that protruded out her back, just under her ribs. Blood was already darkening the area when she finally looked down, hands shaking, and saw the vibrosword that had been plunged through her front and out her back.

Noise made no sound. 

Time made no motion. 

Shock detained all of her responses. 

She vaguely was aware of Cassian struggling with all that he had against the debris, his mouth shouting things she couldn’t hear, his eyes a panicked sight. 

And then the blade was gone, yanked out the same way it had come in. 

Jyn cried out, the pain now fully realized—and it was blinding. 

Warm crimson flowed freely from the wound and over her fingers in thick pulses. She could feel it splurging hot down the back of her shirt as well. It was not an experience she could have imagined—the feeling of life literally draining from the body and slicking her hands that could not hope to staunch the flow. 

Before she could move to brace herself, all strength drained from her legs and she stumbled into the side of the ice. She slipped against the surface, red streaking in great contrast against the white.

Her eyes held a million apologies as she stared at Cassian, knowing words were out of the question. She could see him shouting her name, but she still couldn’t hear him. Why could she still not hear him? 

If she wasn’t going to make it out of here alive, it was her only wish that at least he did. Especially considering she knew she was only walking on borrowed time anyway without a bacta patch for her infection. Cassian still had a chance…a life—he had shared part of it with her, so she knew just how beautiful and worth saving it was. 

But that didn’t stop him from shoving against his entrapment, every muscle flexing from the strain of trying to get to Jyn where she had fallen just out of arms reach. 

She’d bleed out before him and there’d be nothing he could do to stop it, and nothing for her to stop the man from ending Cassian’s life as well. 

So she reached down for the last bit of defense she had—a blade her father had tucked in her boot just before she was separated from him on Lah’mu. The man had watched her fall to the ground, but had turned around to finish off Cassian when Jyn launched herself forward and drove the blade into the man’s calf.

He howled, but Jyn held on, keeping it lodged in his muscle as if it might keep him from ever reaching the debris where her captain—her heart…was trapped. The man spun around, a familiar pair of eyes blazing at her from under his hood and readied another strike into her core. This was it. 

She tried to find Cassian once more before this man finished her.

But…suddenly, Cassian was no longer pinned. 

She wanted to wonder how he’d managed to free himself with what little time she had bought him, but was distracted by how quickly he had launched himself in front of her in a powerful stance and knocked the man holding the sword slick with her blood away from her. 

He aimed his blaster at the man and opened fire without remorse. There were flashes of light and then the man was on the ground, Jyn’s blade still lodged in his calf. But the blaster light didn’t stop even after the man had fallen.

She watched her captain stalk forward, time oozing slowly around her as his arm continued to jolt from firing his blaster at the felled man. Again, only silence.

When Cassian finally shifted, his blaster still smoking, and allowed Jyn a first glimpse at the identity of the man on the ground, it wouldn’t register completely. But if she were more cognizant, she’d have seen the lifeless eyes of Triko Rhane pinned on her, the barest hints of a smile disappearing from his lips, and “Operation Stardust: Pending” still blinking on the small screen of his telecom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being so loyal and supportive!
> 
> You guys make this story what it is.
> 
> Next update: Pretty self-explanatory. A mortal wound needs tending to...Heavy angst still to come.
> 
> Reviews oil my writing gears. Keep them smooth!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for returning to our story! I'm really enjoying writing this alongside all your great comments. It's certainly been quite the ride so far. But it's not over yet! And this certainly isn't the end of the angst/whump either, just you wait. (Also, had no idea this weekend was RebelCaptain Weekend, but in belated honor of the ship, here is our latest installment).

When had she fallen to her knees? She knew it had happened but she couldn’t remember it actually happening. Not good.

The cold burning beneath her legs alerted her to her new position. Her side pressed against the ice and the ground beneath her pushed her legs so they folded without the strength to keep her standing. Everything was so hard to control—even her hands, which cupped loosely at the slice through her abdomen, wavered and numbed as red continued to stream over them in dark, pulsing rivulets. 

But before she could muster up the energy needed to try and stand again, an insistent touch brought her world back into focus. Time returned first, and the world sped up to its normal pace again. 

Someone had caught her just before she collapsed completely, holding her up where she would’ve slipped to the ground on her side. But then she felt whoever was holding her lower them both to the ground and pull her into a solid and warm chest. Since when were people so warm?

Jyn’s fuzzy gaze traced upwards at the new presence and met with Cassian’s. She couldn’t tell if his face was warped and tense from the panic and horror she saw clear in his eyes, or the dizziness that was setting in more thickly every second.

Sound was slower to return. Cassian’s lips were moving, but she couldn’t quite fathom the words. 

Little by little, sound began to reach her again.

“C’sian,” she slurred, her hand searching for something of him to hold onto until she felt his fingers squeeze into hers and keep her hand from falling. 

“Jyn—” his voice broke against the word so she almost didn’t hear it. But when he finally saw just how serious her wound was at this new proximity he found his voice again. “No—no, stay with me, Jyn. You’re alright, come on.” 

But Jyn was cognizant enough to know she was not alright. And probably wouldn’t be. 

And it wasn’t like Cassian to be so in denial. He was always the reasonable one—the quick thinker—the soldier.

“‘M s’ry.” She knew he would blame himself for this—she had come back for him. But getting on that ship without him would have been worse than any death from saving him.

“Dammit. That was my blade, Jyn, why didn’t you just listen?!” His words slipped around like they moved too quickly. He hoisted her more into his embrace so her back was staunched against his leg. His hand wrapped tight around Jyn’s was stained violent red. “I told you to get back to the ship, dammit!”

“‘D do it ag’n. Save you. Ev’ry—time,” she tried again with a little more enunciation, “‘M s’rry.”

“Don’t—“ he choked. One of his hands brushed hair from her eyes and stayed over her cheek. “Don’t say that—don’t you dare apologize. Jyn—look at me, Jyn. Stay with me! Hey, hey!” 

She’d started to drift in the relief that at least she had, in fact, managed to buy him enough time to save his life, when she remembered something that made her heart skip a beat. He’d strand himself trying to drag her dead weight back to Xone’s ship with him.

“Y’ can’t—c’n’t c’ry me.” Her rapidly-onsetting exhaustion and the words she needed to say fought over control of her mouth, which was becoming more and more difficult to control. “Y’re—hurt.” She moved like she wanted to remind him of his blaster wounds, but he must’ve known she didn’t have that kind of strength because his hands captured hers. “Pl’se,” she choked out with all her effort, pushing him. “Won’ make it—t’ the sh’p—w’me.”

“Hey,” he waited until she focused on him again. His face had hardened in resolution. “You said it yourself—we’re getting to that carrier together. Together or not at all, do you understand?”

She felt his hands on her stomach, gently moving hers aside so he could apply pressure to her wound. Pain registered quickest of all and parted her lips with a choked gasp at the agitation. It was enough to send her back out of wits and earn more Festian curses from Cassian—and something new she didn’t recognize—Festian pleas. He was begging. 

But even when he took his hands away, the pressure over the wound remained, dull and throbbing in time with her heart beat. 

Cassian’s inner jacket had materialized around her waist, knotted above her other hip. Already, blood was leaking through the leather. She realized he hadn’t re-donned his outer jacket, so he was just clad in his thin uniform that betrayed all his heat to the cold. 

She knew dropping the warm layer must’ve been to free up motion, but with his inner jacket used to tourniquet her wound, he would only make it a few hours exposed in this state. 

But she couldn’t deny how warm he felt pressed against her at this proximity—with only a few layers now separating them. All down his front was blood. She tried not to think about whether it was mostly hers or his.

“St— wi’me,—‘yn!” Cassian’s insistent voice was cutting in and out of her cognizance like comlink static. 

Under her knees and beneath her shoulders she felt a sturdy pressure collect her away from the biting ground and densely realized Cassian was now carrying her. And judging by the sustained beat of jostling, he also must’ve been running. 

Her eyes slipped closed as her head lolled against his shoulder, drawn to darkness by the solid security of his arms around her.

“J’n!” A familiar accented voice called out to her, becoming clearer even as it snagged. She felt herself being shaken, the arms tightening their hold on her. “Nonono—eyes open, Jyn! Look at me!…Jyn!”

It took a lot of effort, but she obeyed the voice, pulling her focus away from the enticing black. Black, grey, white, and the faintest hint of blue from the sky above them swam in a milieu of colors before her. But it was the velvety brown that she tried to keep in her line of vision—Cassian’s eyes that were trained ahead as if he could make the ship wait for them but constantly flicking down to make sure Jyn’s own eyes were open. 

Although it was hard to not let the heavy black close them and she found herself really fighting the blood loss just so she could memorize her captain’s face.

Something bitter and metallic sat hot on her tongue. Through her labored breathing, she was having a hard time not choking on it. Finally it found the corner of her lips and escaped onto her chin. Once again, her eyes fluttered closed because the warmth actually felt good on her face, which had grown cold—she had grown so, so cold. Jyn loathed the cold. It was something the bit and nipped even if you didn’t provoke it.

But then Cassian was yelling her name again, only this time it sounded too far away to answer. Why wouldn’t Cassian just let her sleep? He was so warm. 

She tried curling closer to him, making herself smaller in his arms, too tired to even shiver. Beneath the warmth of his chest she could feel his heart hammering and she tried to focus on that since her vision wasn’t coming through. His strides were quick, his grip on her strong. 

There was one last thing she wanted to tell him. So she whispered what little she could into his chest, hoping he caught the three words she was afraid she’d never have gotten to tell him. This time, it wasn’t an accident—an errant thought that had escaped her lips like before. But it was a good-bye. And she prayed he heard it.

The last thing she remembered were Cassian’s footfalls up a moving ramp, the steam of a door closing, a warm hand brushing the blood that spilled from her lips, and the vibration of her captain’s chest from shouted words she could no longer hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for short chapter, but the my devotion to trying to maintain realistic situations kept me honest about the length of Jyn's consciousness.
> 
> Next update: let's explore the intricacies of the unconscious mind (aka Erso family fluff). AND...We finally figure out how our favorite rebels survived Scarif! I don't know if you caught the mentions here and there, but I'd been hinting at it throughout the story. And how they do it is pretty crucial to how a certain someone survives a mortal wound and septicemia.
> 
> So stay tuned! Loving your reviews! And thanks as always for the comments/Kudos!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy almost end of the week! I am still stuck celebrating RebelCaptain weekend that I missed, so just ignore me. But I have a nice extra long chapter for you this time since I cheated you on length last time. So please enjoy some Erso family fluff and a flashback to the Scarif-recovery process: complete with angst, fluff, pining, and the answer to their survival. (Hint: I don't actually *tell* you what it is, but the answer is there, and we'll continue to explore it/unwrap this mystery with every new installment because it's important for Jyn's survival later. But I've laid it all bare for you, so practice your Sherlock skills and let me know in the comments how you think Cassian lived ;)

“Lyra,” Galen spoke softly from where he held young Jyn on his lap. “Lyra, come.”

“Mama!” Jyn followed her father’s example. 

“Shh, little Stardust,” Galen muttered into her ear, the smile clear in his voice. “Mind you don’t startle them.”

A blanket of lantern bugs shrouded the side of a tree. Stripes on their back glowed and pulsed in their dormancy. 

The star Lah’mu orbited had just sunk below the horizon, but the last strobes of light played themselves out over the treetops so the shimmered with muted fatigue. With the disappearance of the sun, the emergence of the star insects brought different light to the planet.

“Why are they sleeping, Papa?” Jyn’s little whisper was thin and unpracticed.

“They’re Lantern bugs, Jynnie.” She felt his chin shift over her head as he observed the sky. “Until it’s fully night, we don’t need lanterns, so they stay asleep.”

The last light of day still hung onto the clouds. But Jyn noticed the blanket of bugs beginning to shimmer.

“Where’d they come from?”

“They evolved from glow bugs,” Galen said. “You know what planet glow bugs are from?”

Jyn scrunched up her nose and tried to remember where it was hot. “Uhmm…Scarif?”

Galen chucked softly.

“Rori.” Lyra materialized beside her little family, folding her legs beneath her skirt so she could sit and watch the lantern bugs begin their waking cycle. “They’re from Rori.”

“Oh.”

“An engineer for the Yuuzhan Vona made them in a very special way so they could always be a source of light no matter where they were.” Her father stretched back so he was braced on his hands. Jyn leaned back against him.

“An engineer like you!” Jyn wanted to squeal but she was afraid of disturbing the sleeping life forms opposite them. “I bet you could make things glow if you wanted to, too,” She piped.

“I don’t need any help with making things brighter when I’ve got my own star right here.” Galen blew a kiss into Jyn’s neck and she squealed.

“Quiet! Look!” Lyra reminded. “They’re waking now!”

Jyn gasped and scrambled over to her mother’s lap who did her best to tuck in all her limbs.

The first lantern bug flickered. Instead of a dull, sleepy pulsing, each ridge on the bug’s back strobed a different rhythm until the bug looked like it was communicating with patterns.

“They don’t sing songs, little Stardust,” Galen stroked his daughter’s hair. “They send light messages. You know? Like the messages I send to you on the holoprojector.”

“When you’re away,” Jyn recalled with no shortage of begrudging memory. Behind her, she felt her mother sigh.

“I always come home, don’t I?” Galen nudged her knee, but Jyn pulled it away. “Don’t I?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Oh, look, Jyn!” Her mother reached around her, the cool fingers of her other hand that was against her forehead dripped down toward her neck so Jyn could sit up a little more. “Front row seats!”

The rest of the lantern bugs had begun to chatter silently with their back lights. 

“Are they talking to one another?” Jyn’s eyes shown with the reflection of the luminescence.

“I think they are,” Lyra smiled. 

Galen sneaked onto his knees towards their bed of bark, hands cupped in anticipation of caging one.

“Papa, no!” Jyn cried.

Suddenly all the bugs thrashed their wings in a flurry of glossy backs. And then the bark was empty. 

“Don’t hurt them, Papa,” Jyn pouted and tried to keep the sorrow from dripping down her nose at the new absence of the pretty bugs. 

Galen looked stricken.

“Oh, sweetie,” Lyra whispered. “Papa would never hurt them—he just wanted to show you up close how pretty they could be.”

“But they were pretty where they were,” Jyn protested. She felt guilty for scaring them away with her wail. But she was mad her Papa even made her do it at all.

“Giver her to me, Lyra,” Galen’s words were in that soft adult voice that children tended to tune out.

Jyn let herself be transferred back to her father’s arms, but she was too puffy and didn’t want him to see. “Look at me, Stardust,” he prompted her chin up with a light finger.

“Why,” she garbled.

“Because eye contact is a form of trusting another. And I want you to always feel like you can do that with me.”’

Jyn’s bright little irises hovered around his chin for a moment, but finally made their way up to her father’s. 

“There are some things that your papa will do that might not always look very pretty, Stardust.” His voice stretched with truth. “But I want you to know—I would never do anything to hurt you or your mother. Everything I ever do is out of love for my family, hm?” 

“You always said telling the truth is the best thing to do,” Jyn mumbled. 

“You listen well.”

“Then why do you look so unhappy when you say those words. That’s not the best thing if you’re unhappy.” She let her lip slip out from her mouth in a pout.

Galen’s face broke into softness. “Oh, Jyn,” his chin wobbled with a smile he was trying hard not to release. “Always so perceptive. But sometimes, the best thing for others is not always best thing for ourselves. But that’s how you truly know that person loves you—yes? When someone makes sacrifices for the ones they love, even if that sacrifice isn’t something the other wanted, but rather, what they needed, and what the other needed as well. The act alone speaks greater than any consequence.”

Jyn picked grass out of the ground that was only found these days in their lowland farms. “Can we go back inside now?” She was tired of all the words her father was making her think about. And she didn’t like some of the things he was trying to explain to her either. Jyn didn’t want to think about what her father might do in the coming years that would warrant this kind of disclaimer. 

But eventually she’d understand both ends of her father’s words. And the first would happen after something her father did finally ended up hurting her…by hurting someone else.

The sun was hot and the air was thick on the day when she finally understood that conversation with her father on Lah’mu all those years ago. 

Jyn was tracing the light in the horizon with shaded eyes. Her legs were weak and her uniform gooed against her stomach from how much she was sweating. After escorting a wounded, full-grown man down to the beach with him draped around her shoulder and seeing the blast of her father’s creation approaching them over the ocean, Jyn was exhausted to say the least, but peaceful. 

Her father’s promise to never do anything to hurt her almost made her laugh as she watched the explosion lift land and water as it raced to consume them, but she knew he didn’t do this—the Empire did this. She was just sorry Cassian had to be next to her when it did.

But then he spoke to her the words that meant more than any promise or apology could have that made everything worth it: “Your father would have been proud of you, Jyn.”

In that moment, she knew whatever had passed between them in the elevator on their way down to the beach had been real—if only they’d had more time, perhaps she might have had a future with her captain. And it pained her that she’d never be able to know.

Instead, she settled for taking his hand, hoping the action could convey what her words simply could not. Cassian squeezed her fingers and their eyes met, neither wanting to be the first to turn away.

Eye contact is a form of trusting another, and trust went both ways. She saw a million sorrows in Cassian’s eyes, which scared her. He must’ve felt that because suddenly he had enveloped her in his arms so she could no longer read him so well. 

If they weren’t about to be scorched to death, Jyn would have asked him why he looked so guilty. And then she remembered the part of her fathers words that scared her the most: 

Sometimes, the best thing for others is not always best thing for ourselves, even if that sacrifice isn’t something the other wanted, but rather, what they needed, and what the other needed as well.

Before she could act on her realization of what Cassian Andor was going to do, she had been pressed into the sand by something solid and warm. He had caged her beneath him, tucking her between his chest and the coolness of the sand, and she could feel her kyber crystal protesting loudly against her sternum.

And then the blast hit.

Seconds before they were rescued.

But it had been enough time for one of them to toe death’s line.

There would be many days afterwards where Jyn wished it had been her that took the fall, instead, especially considering Rogue One’s mission had been her idea: after discovering everyone on Rogue One had perished excepting herself and Cassian; after the long ride back to Yavin IV with Cassian very badly burnt lying unresponsive in her lap; the first time she fell asleep and saw only the faces of her dead comrades; and every single night she sat against Cassian’s bacta tank, wishing with every fiber of her being just to touch him and remember he was real. 

She’d watched him float unconscious in the luminescent blue for days, sleeping against the glass when she could no longer keep her eyes open. When finally he’d spent as long as was safe in the tank and the medics removed him to be transferred to a cot in the surveillance area, she had followed, dragging a chair stubbornly behind her until he was settled with her beside him once again. Only this time, she’d made a promise—a sacrifice, of sorts, in return.

For the first time since her mother died, Jyn looped the kyber crystal from over her head and pressed the little jagged rock into Cassian’s palm, curling his limp fingers around it and making him hold it. 

Eventually, after several days, she could no longer ignore her need to sleep. To make sure he kept his hold on the crystal, she slipped her hand into his so their fingers locked together and sandwiched her necklace between them so it always pressed into his hand.

By the time Cassian finally regained some semblance of consciousness, it had been two weeks since their rescue on Scarif, and Jyn had barely moved from his side, leaving only to use the restroom, eat, and move her muscles that the medics warned would atrophy if she didn’t walk or stand. 

She had fallen asleep on her arms, her hand molded in its familiar place against Cassian’s so that he was always in contact with her crystal. The lightest of pressure around her fingers had her eyes fluttering open before she could register what had happened. 

Then everything came rushing back to her and she snapped up, eyes wild in remembrance before they fastened on Cassian who was watching her with the weak ghost of a smile waiting on his lips. He looked wan and thin, but awake, and alive. 

For a few seconds, they just stared at each other. It had been so long, she’d almost forgotten how dimensional the brown of his eyes was—like the fertile layers of soil planets that fed eras of farming peoples, and now fed her own sentiments. A healthy yet tired luster peeked through the color. Then Jyn let out the breath she’d been holding.

“Hi,” she breathed.

“Jyn.”

When he squeezed her fingers again, she remembered where her hand was and went to retract it. For whatever reason, thinking she was going to die excused her affections on Scarif. But here? Now she had no excuse.

“Don’t.” He tightened his hold. “‘M sorry I woke you.” His own voice was still thick with sleep.

Jyn let slip a little bubble of a laugh, hoping it would stave off whatever watery embarrassment was starting to fog her vision. “You’re apologizing for waking up someone who’s been awaiting your consciousness for two weeks, now. Seems a little ironic.”

At that he frowned. “Two weeks.”

“How long have you been up?” She pressed.

“Only a couple of hours.”

Jyn groaned. Hours? How had she managed to kriff this up so badly.

He pursed a smile from his lips. “Don’t worry, you didn’t miss much. Only the nurse changing my IV. They feed you different stuff when you’re conscious, did you know that?”

Jyn’s eyes dropped to the floor and ignored his latest attempt to clear the tension. She needed him to know. “They told me you wouldn’t wake up—that you wouldn’t make it.” Damn her voice for cracking. She slotted a knuckle into her teeth to keep herself from letting out a sob. 

Cassian’s voice was devoid of all edges, confused but soft in a way she’d never heard before. “Jyn?” It was as if it took his questioning of her reaction for it to totally slip from her resolve. Jyn crumbled before him, finally allowing the fear and loneliness of the past couple of days to shroud her.

“I was—so terrified—damn you!” Her gasps were small, but detectable enough for the intelligence officer. And suddenly every wall Jyn had build since Gerera left her stranded at sixteen fell apart in front of the last man from Rogue One still alive—Jyn’s last hope.

“Hey—“ he prompted her gaze towards his again and tried to prop himself up.

“—what’re you doing!” Jyn was suddenly alarmed.

“Re-lax,” he calmed. “I’ve been resting far too long, now it’s your turn, ven acá.”

Jyn side-eyed him, wary. “Don’t be crazy, Cassian, you’re weak and—“

“Ahora, Jyn.”

What very minimal Festian she knew, she obeyed. His cot was much comfier than the chair. They laid side by side, only touching at the hands where they’d both refused to let go, the crystal still embossing their palms.

He suddenly seemed to notice it and spared it a questioning glance.

Jyn blushed sheepishly but tried to brush it off. “It’s gotten me through some tough times,” Jyn shrugged. “Thought you needed it more than I did.”

He lifted their joined hands closer and cupped his hand until it slipped out into his other, but did not let go of Jyn’s hand in the process. The kyber crystal hummed a little more dully than Jyn was used to observing. 

When Cassian made to return it, Jyn stopped his hands. “No, please keep it. Just—Just a little while longer until you’re better. I don’t need it any time soon.”

She was acutely aware of his eyes on her, but chose to ignore it, hoping not to tread where she couldn’t stand.

She felt him shift beside her just a smidge before settling back down with the stone in its new home around his neck. It looked like it belonged there, Jyn decided.

They stayed in that position until nightfall, Cassian still recovering and Jyn in no hurry to return to her stiff chair considering she’d never actually been assigned quarters since arriving. When the nurse came with food, Jyn waved him off and scooted Cassian until he sat against his piped headboard so she could help spoon watery broth between his chapped lips. There was no need for an audience; Jyn knew Cassian hated feeling like an invalid. So the nurse left. 

Only a little more than half of the soup made it into Cassian’s mouth. Between his coughing and weakness, it was a miracle that more of the soup didn’t cover the front of his shirt by the end. 

“Mierda,” he swore in frustration as he choked on another mouthful of broth. “Ay, you’d think a rebel officer who brandishes weapons of warfare would be a little more handy with a spoon.”

Jyn used her sleeve to dab at his chin. “Ahh, don’t be so hard on yourself. You know you haven’t used your esophagus in a while. It needs some time to readjust to swallowing.”

Cassian glanced down at his shirt and bit at his lip like he was trying to stop it from flexing into a smile. “Caramba,” he actually laughed this time, a weak sound that immediately made him cough, but a true laugh nonetheless. “Maybe you shouldn’t have sent that nurse away, Jyn. How did you let me turn into a toddler?”

Jyn followed his gesturing hands to where soup stains littered his post-bacta wraps. 

“If I have to wear it, it could at least taste better.” Broth flecked off his hand when he shook his fingers over the bedside. 

Jyn let herself laugh once or twice with him, knowing deep down what he was actually doing. Perhaps that jest had been genuine, but she also knew it was pointed—an act that was meant to distract her from the fear and loneliness and desertion she’d been feeling ever since Scarif. 

She rolled her eyes and flicked whatever was left on the spoon at him. “Here, I’ll grab you some fresh bandages. Stay here, you rebito.”

Cassian gaped after her. “Did you just combine basic slang with Festian colloquialisms?”

“Believe it or not, I do listen when you speak your native tongue, Capitán!” Jyn called back as she rummaged through shelves of packing. Finally she stumbled across bandages and disinfectant. A few bacta patches also made it into her stash. She checked both her nine and her three to make sure no one saw her take them.

“Sit up,” she commanded upon her return.

“Remind me to speak less Festian around you. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy hearing you butcher the pronunciation, but what am I going to use if you start understanding the things I say in front of you?”

Jyn quirked a brow. “I do not butcher the pronunciation….wait, wait wait, what exactly do you say?”

Cassian’s cheeks puckered. “No te gustaría saber, ‘strellita.”

Jyn swatted at him, but turned instead to start unwrapping his soiled bandages from around where the burn along his thorax was still healing. His skin was clammy and feverish against her hands, which she suddenly realized meant her hands must have felt cold to him. 

“Sorry for the cold fingers,” she muttered while she worked. “They don’t exactly heat the hospital wards at night—some bantha fodder about cooler sleeping quarters to promote deeper sleep and quicker healing.”

“Estoy bien,” he grimaced as the cloth fell from around his still-tender wounds. “It—actually feels good, you know?”

She looked away quickly when she met his gaze on accident and let her bangs fall over her eyes. This was as de-robed as she had ever seen her comrade, and she couldn’t quite figure out why she was having such a reaction to it—her heart shunted a little too much blood around her body at rapid speeds, and her hands warbled a bit around their work.

To her great relief, the burn had healed a great amount courtesy of his extended suspension in the bacta tank. But there was still raw tissue exposed that could easily become infected if not kept clean. Jyn allowed a few dollops of disinfectant to run through the rivulets of his marred skin, mumbling apologies when he hissed from the pain.

There was a little canister of antibiotic cream on the bedside table that she’d seen the nurse dress him in when they’d first wrapped him. Jyn grabbed it tentatively and dipped her first two fingers in the cool gel. Personal experience with burns told her she needed confirmation from her patient before she touched his wounds. Cassian bobbed his chin in a nod, prompting Jyn to apply the ointment without her even having to ask. 

His muscles quivered under her fingers from trying not to let on about his pain. So she worked quickly, tracing the wounds until a generous sheen covered all the burns. The pocked flesh under her fingers sent guilt down her spine—these were from protecting her. She should have had them, too.

Then she reached for the bacta patches.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” He arrested her movement. “What are those?”

With her teeth, Jyn broke the seal of the first patch and arranged it over the lowest section of his burn, right at his hips. She did her best to not let the location distract her.

“You weren’t lying, you really are a toddler.” 

“Their stocks will be off tomorrow. I was not prescribed—”

“We’re rebels, Cassian, let’s be a little rebellious sometimes. Besides—“ she paused to make sure the patch had set and moved on to opening the next one; “—you’ve been out of the bacta tank for a little more than a week now. You’re definitely due for your next treatment.”

She looked up at him with a confident smirk as if challenging him to tell her no, but was surprised to be met with pain.

“Am I hurting you?” Jyn exclaimed, hands jumping away. “You should have told me—!”

“No, no, I’m fine, Jyn,” he assured her. “I just—I’m sorry I was…out for so long.”

There weren’t many mirrors on Yavin IV, but she suspected her haggard appearance bore the proof of her many sleepless nights and worrying. 

She regarded him but she wasn’t sure what expression she was wearing, she was simply content enough to share in his eye contact, just like back during what she thought were to be her last moments alive.

Jyn finished applying the last two bacta treatments over his wounds in silence and then moved to begin the wrapping. As she worked, she didn’t miss how his skin erupted in goosebumps when her fingers came into contact with bare skin, or the uneven staccato of air from his lungs. But she wrote it off as her hand temperature again. When she finished, she tucked in the last end of wrapping so his torso was secure and pulled a loose shirt over his head before pushing the abandoned food tray onto the little rolling accessory table.

“Sleep,” she ordered and stood up, smoothing out the wrinkles from where she’d been laying. “I’ll…check on you in the morning.”

She wasn’t sure where she’d be staying the night since the quartermasters were most likely on their rounds or asleep. But now that Cassian was awake, her presence at his side felt invasive.

“Quédate conmigo,” sounded quietly behind her like a prayer.

Jyn had just turned around to leave when she heard it and stopped. 

“Cassian, I don’t know what that means.”

“What do you want it to mean?” 

If she hadn’t stilled before, she did now. Jyn let air in and out of her lungs just a little longer before turning.

His stare was blank and measuring—she knew he wanted her to make the decision on her own without any influence from his expression. 

Here she was thinking about how difficult it had been for her all these days with him unconscious, she hadn’t even though to consider just how defeated Cassian must’ve been feeling, considering he’d found out about the fates of Rogue One mere hours ago.

There had been no words needed. While they’d been lying next to one another, Cassian had simply lifted up the kyber crystal and tightened his grip on her hand. When she’d squeezed back, he glanced down at her and she shook her head. 

Something in his eyes dulled after that, but he nodded and they resumed the silence of simply being in each other’s company. After a blow like that, Jyn knew better than to hope he might sleep again, but she still hoped. 

Now that he knew they were the only two to make it out alive, how could she leave him alone in the med ward? Not to mention the loss of K-2SO was most-likely still too fresh for him. That droid had basically raised him in his time with the Rebellion, and, although it had now been at least two weeks since the droid’s destruction, for Cassian it was only yesterday.

He most likely didn’t want to be alone tonight.

She let her eyes drift down Cassian’s wounded form, letting the blame of his condition sit on her for a bit before she let herself sit down.

“Don’t do that,” Cassian spoke quietly. 

“Do what?”

“Don’t keep putting this on yourself.”

Jyn blinked a few times. “How in the galaxy—”

“It’s not your fault, what happened—to Rogue One.” He slid over onto his elbow.

She cast him a dense stare.

“Jyn, you didn’t do this to me.”

“I might as well have.”

He sighed. “Would you just come over here so you can rest properly?”

Jyn situated herself in the chair again and tried to settle in for another night. She noticed Cassian was already beginning to nod off, but she could see him trying to stay awake long enough to reprimand her choice of a bed for the night, already making to move.

“Oh no, you don’t,” she put a hand on his arm.

“Don’t tell me you actually get a decent night’s sleep in that sorry excuse for a chair.”

“I’m not going to tell you anything other than you need your bed more than I do.”

She could tell he wanted to fight her on it, but she reached up and let a little more sedative drip through his IV.

“That’s not fair,” he frowned. Now he was really fighting his exhaustion. But Jyn knew she’d won this one. She sat back in self-satisfaction until he lost the battle with his eyes and his breathing evened out in deep rhythm. 

Jyn watched him for an hour or two, hating herself for being alive—for not being the one with burns over her body and an IV up her vein. But eventually her eyes felt heavy—the weight of worrying over his condition finally felt much lighter after that day.

It was the best sleep Jyn’d had in weeks. But that didn’t mean the nightmares had stopped coming. She’d just seen their ship explode with Bodhi inside of it still, only this time Cassian was there too. 

Jyn ran towards them, knowing whoever had been inside did not escape the blast. Still she ran. Far from the field of destruction she found Bodhi who’d been flung wide and far so the impact of the ground and the heat of the blast did a number on his face. White bone poked through his shin, and no air was coming from his nose or mouth.

The sight nearly toppled her, but she had to find the others. Chirrut was also there, mangled and broken, his lifeless eyes blown wide against nothing. The hair from his head had been seared off. Each leg pointed a different direction.

It was Cassian who was still alive, struggling to breathe through a piece of debris lodged in his chest. Splinters of whatever had exploded next to him erupted from various coordinates of his body.

She called to him but he never acknowledged her. He just sat there panting and wincing and breathing while she screamed at him, screamed for him, screamed because this whole mission had been her idea and now she was the only one left standing.

Then the light left his eyes, and he looked so alone—believing no one was there with him in his final moments. And Jyn ran, unable to stop the sobs from tearing raw her trachea.

None of them survived. They had all died together, but alone. And it was her fault, her fault.

From where she stood, she could just make out their bodies inside the smoking ship. And then someone screamed.

But the image was banished by a cool hand stroking away her bangs that had slicked to her forehead.

Jyn jolted awake, lungs fighting for air.

“Shh—it’s okay, Jyn. Jyn! It’s just me. You’re okay.”

“Ca—” her voice rasped. “Cassian?”

He was kneeling in front of her, concern etched onto his usually stoic face. 

“What’re you doing out of bed?” She scolded, dragging the back of her hand over her lips and scooting to sit up more. 

“You were having a nightmare,” he pointed out. One of his hands strayed to brush the sweaty bangs from her forehead. She tried not to think about how cool they felt there—how right. Then she realized…she was trembling.

“No excuse! You—…what are you doing?”

He’d sat back on his heels and was using the edge of his bed to hoist himself back up, only he’d never let go of her hand. “You’re sleeping in a bed, Jyn.”

She resisted him and he glared at her. Then his expression shifted.

“I won’t sleep knowing you’re seeing terrible things that you can’t change. So unless you want me staying awake all night…” he motioned her towards his cot with his eyes. 

Shit, she couldn’t argue with that. “Sod off,” she mumbled and helped him back to bed only to crawl in beside him.

“You force me to use unfair tactics,” he allowed.

There was no denying this was far more comfortable—even just the pillow beneath her head felt like some unleashed divinity. But the most calming affect was the warm touch of Cassian’s shoulder against her own. 

She worried she’d thrash in the night and injure Cassian with another one of her nightmares. Except this time, the nightmare would never come. Jyn would drift to sleep, lulled by the soft tug of air she heard beside her, and there would just be blackness. No dreams. Not even good ones. But certainly not bad ones either. Just the deepest sleep she’d have since Saw.

It would be morning before she realized why. In the night, Jyn would end up on her side, gripping fervently the fabric of her captain’s shirt just over the tight muscles of his warm stomach, her nose just brushing his collarbone—her captain, who would have also rolled to his side in the night, facing the small figure sharing his cot, a heavy arm draped protectively over her waist like it might stave off the dreams.

Of course, Cassian would wake first but, afraid to rouse the sleep-deprived girl beside him, would simply content in laying next to her, memorizing the way she felt in his arms, until she began to stir. Only then would he again close his eyes out of respect for her dignity so she could release her hold on his shirt and roll over believing him to have never seen.

But it would be enough to bring Cassian to Jyn’s side with every Scarif nightmare she’d have afterwards. And so was born the first of many nights shared in the only company of Rogue One that was left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing this chapter! Tender moments between these two turn me into the most hopeless romantic.
> 
> Thanks always for tuning in!
> 
> Next update: Jyn's first regaining of consciousness since her wound escaping Hoth. I bet you can all guess who's waiting for her to wake up. But the road to recovery is never easy, especially when it occurs at the expense of someone else...


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So sorry for late posting; I haven't forgotten about you guys/this story! Actually been thinking about it a lot because I think we can all agree that reading/writing keeps us sane sometimes, and gosh do I need sanity right now because I have exams this week and next. But I made time in my evening tonight to update on our favorite rebels! So here is a super whumpy and pretty long chapter for all ya'll because I'm a neglectful author-friend who doesn't post on time. Little disclaimer that this is a bit of canon divergence because, in a world where Rogue One survives, so does Yavin IV...at least for a little while longer (CUE THE FORESHADOWING). Enjoy, lovelies.

Warmth. It was the first thing Jyn noticed. Warmth. And it was spreading. From where—to where—she couldn't really tell. It was like that time she'd fallen beneath the ice on a mission with Saw once. When you're underwater for so long, with all your senses numbed, there is no direction—no up or down, or right, or comfortable. It's all just jumbled confusion.

That was some fraction of what she supposed she was feeling. But, the worst part about that state of being: you're too confused to even realize you're in that state.

But Jyn was sure of the warmth. It was a pulse deep under her skin she'd hadn't felt in ages. The first time she remembered ever feeling the warmth was the time just after her mother had been shot. Jyn had run to the hide-out she and her parents had agreed upon and Jyn waited there, frosting the newly placed Kyber crystal around her neck with her breath while she prayed her Papa would come for her.

When, instead, it was Saw, that warmth tapered into a longing. And Jyn wouldn't feel a warmth like that for a long time. Part of her even wanted to remember feeling that warmth on Scarif—just before she, herself, thought she might die with the rest of Rogue One—or at the very least deserved to have died with her team.

But now she thought it might have just been the impending doom of firestorm and fury and maybe not the same warmth she was feeling now. There was no way to be sure. Not now, anyway. Not when she was tumbling in a blackness with warmth as her only dimension.

Here and there was a buzzing. Could it have been her blood? Voices she couldn't here? Dare she go literal and fear it to have come from an animal? The musings were moot.

No sooner had she settled back into the realm of unconsciousness than she was roused again by the warmth. This time, it was more unsettling and bordered on levels of hot. But it wasn't the kind of hot that was actually the experience of hot—rather, it was that feeling one got when placing the back of their hand up against something and sensing a great, destructive hotness. The fear, or anticipation, of a burn that was not necessarily to be dealt to her own person, but a dangerous heat nonetheless—a threat of burning.

This time, Jyn wanted to investigate this strange temperature threat. Her muscles twitched, remembering how to work. Her senses struggled to harness stimulation.

Finally, she was in control of her own breathing. A few more deliberate tests to her function would bring more answers to these strange experiences.

The heat was abating, but the threat was not. Something still did not belong. So she fought.

After several minutes of unresponsiveness from her limbs. Jyn settled for her breathing. Measuring the air in and out of her lungs, feeling her lips part around the oxygen.

Ever so slowly, her skin, her bones, her muscle—it all connected. She was whole. Perhaps she'd always been whole. But now she existed within that wholeness.

And she could feel the things her darkness kept her from feeling. The warmth. It was coming from her arm. But she was so, so tired. Would it still be there if she were to just take a quick nap? Something told her she needed answers now.

Jyn scrunched her eyes, focusing all her energy to her senses. She wanted to stretch her fingers, but found they were bound up by something.

She tested the sides of what was preventing her from using her hands, molding her fingers into a grip she wasn't making.

Light peeked through her lids aggressively. But she was determined.

It took some focusing before the light fell into colors and the colors into shapes. But eventually, Jyn was able to make sense of her surroundings.

Cement walls. Cement floors. Cement balustrades. Just a lot of kriffing cement.

And a presence. And a warmth. A threat amidst her exhaustion that was truthfully the only thing keeping her awake right now. That was…until…

A breath lodged in her throat.

There was a dark red tube extending from the crook of her arm and it disappeared under her skin, taped to her forearm.

Blood.

Suddenly her muscles responded again. A foreign object sticking out of her arm gave her the adrenaline spike she needed to jolt into action. Her fingers scrabbled against the tubing, her breathing haggard in the oncoming panic.

"Jyn!"

Her hands were captured by another pair, wrangling in her panic just a little. She wasn't alone. This was supposed to happen. This tube of blood.

"Don't touch that—leave it, leave it! They're just giving you a transfusion, it's okay."

Jyn was still struggling just a little to get her breathing back under control, but she laid back against her pillow and left the IV alone, still untrusting of its presence.

"Jyn."

Her eyes snapped toward whoever had stopped her from yanking out her tubing.

Cassian. It was Cassian. He was alive. They were both alive. At least, that's what it seemed like, anyway. Who actually knew?

He was seated next to the edge of her bed. And suddenly the deja-vu of their last prolonged hospitalization was almost too painful. The memory came flooding back with every other memory before her long stay with the warm darkness.

There had been the raid, the escape, the betrayal, the fear of loss. And the pain. But a peaceful pain. One that stemmed from the same place her father's must have when he left with the empire for the sake of his daughter.

Still, it didn't make sense. She shouldn't have been alive right now.

Rhane. It had been Rhane, her old commanding officer who'd stabbed her. But he'd been after Cassian? None of it was falling into place. Why was he after Cassian? Why was she still alive?

A nondescript part of her wanted to lift the blanket that was shrouding her lower half to see if perhaps she was still leaking blood from a stab wound to her abdomen. There was certainly a throbbing under her ribs that couldn't be ignored forever. But the larger part of her was more concerned with the man by her side.

Jyn tried to say his name—to hear his identity on her lips again, but her voice wouldn't make sound. Her lips parted and nothing came forth.

Jyn deflated. But she did her best to take in Cassian's appearance. He looked pale—wan even, and thin, but no thinner than she'd seen since they'd been living on Hoth. So she hoped that meant not that much time had passed since their escape—or at the very least, that he was eating if it had.

She cleared her throat and tried again. Failing a second time.

A glass of water materialized in front of her, supported by one of Cassian's hands.

"Drink," he commanded. "You need fluids."

That was when she noticed the threadlike tubing that also extended into her nose. She'd gone to lift the cup to her lips, her hands spotted by Cassian's the whole way, and her fingers brushed past the airways that settled over her cheekbones.

Jyn took tentative sips from the cup, doing her best to ignore the pain as the water pushed dryness from her throat. After a few sips, the pain lessened enough for her to set the cup down and try again. Cassian eased her hands down from her mouth so she could breathe and then gently took the cup from her again.

She had so many questions. But there was only one word she really wanted to say at the moment above all others.

"Cassian."

At that, he smiled with something akin to relief and exhaustion simultaneously playing out on his lips. Pressure hugged around her hand. She didn't need to look to know he was still gripping her hand like she had once done only a few months ago.

"How are you feeling?" He stroked soothing patterns into the curve of her wrist, but didn't let up on his hold of her hand. The familiarity of his Festian accent was something she didn't realize she'd missed in unconsciousness. But, dammit, if it wasn't the elixir she needed.

Jyn thought for a moment. "Heavy," she decided.

Cassian's smile didn't reach the pain leeching into his eyes. "It will be hard to move for a few days—maybe a few weeks, but I think between Jecht, Slahlvo, and me, we can get Jerikko to part with some extra bacta—maybe get your recovery time down."

Jyn wanted to nod, but she was tired and decided her eyes probably showed her agreement enough. Her hand strayed to her neck but groped at nothing where her kyber crystal usually sat. "…Wh'r?" It was gone. "I must've lost it," she mused aloud to him. It didn't resonate with her at the moment, but she knew she'd feel the pain of that loss after some recovery.

Cassian looked stricken but said nothing. But she needed to fill the void. It had been quiet all the hours of her unconsciousness.

"Wh'r are we?" She glanced around the room, taking in the angles and muted colors that bespoke rebellion headquarters. Her question was answered before she'd asked, but it got Cassian to speak, and his voice was all she needed right now.

"Yavin IV," he responded easily, but the next part sounded as though he were trying to force the words together. "We made it out." His mouth looked as if it were resisting the urge to betray the sadness that was in his voice. "Off Hoth."

Jyn's memory was spotty, but a patch of it was louder than the rest. "Rhane," she frowned, but it must've looked more like a grimace because suddenly Cassian was fussing over her.

"Take it slow, Jyn," he spoke so quietly, but Jyn was grateful. There was no way her head could handle normal amplitudes right now. "Where does it hurt? Should I call the nurse?"

Jyn let a shaky breath fill her lungs. "No. Not painful." That was a lie. But her need to know why her commanding officer had tried to skewer Cassian far exceeded her need for pain meds. "Why…"

This seemed to be the one time Cassian needed help in figuring out what she meant. Damn, he really was distracted.

"Why, what?" Cassian's gaze had strayed to her monitors to check her levels. No wonder he was not picking up on her cues.

"Why did Rhane," she breathed, "try to kill you?" By the time Jyn finished she had all of Cassian's attention back. He regarded her with the fragility of a million regrets, his face both a hard and a soft thing.

Finally he shifted forward and brushed the hair from her eyes with a feather stroke of his hand, his touch relieving pressure in her head that she didn't realize was there.

"I'm not the one lying in a medbay with a vibrosword wound to my side."

"Cassian," she corrected him.

He sighed and pulled his hand away. "Triko Rhane was an imperial sympathizer. Apparently he and Victor Drakkar had been in correspondence with one another for months and took turns sending updates to the empire about Rebel status—weapon counts, training routines, satellite locations—everything."

His gaze was careful and largely obscured behind a sheen of intelligence training so she couldn't see the rage testing the limits of his patience. But Jyn knew the only reason he was sidelined right now was because she was holed up in this ward. She knew him enough to know that between the mutiny and another compromised alliance officer and the collapse of their base on Hoth that he would like nothing more than a mission to purge the rebellion of defectors. A mission only Intelligence could assume because it would require going undercover to uncover just how deep corrupted loyalties ran in the rebellion.

"When we disposed of Drakkar a few weeks ago, Rhane was to pick up Drakkar's mission at the risk of losing his insight to Rebel information."

Drakkar's mission. Erso's capture. They'd never finished what had started in that glacier—kill Cassian and take Jyn into custody to be used against her father. Suddenly her post under Rhane made much more sense. Every time she'd tried to obtain new tasks like perimeter duty or missions with Cassian, her commanding officer met her requests with great resistance, determined to keep her close by.

And later when Rhane had radioed Cassian that Jyn had reported for duty, it was no doubt to keep him from coming after her when she'd been captured. Give them a head start into hyperspace and just hope the siege of the base would kill off the good captain.

It didn't make sense, though, why he would turn around and try to kill Jyn if Rhane had been trying to kidnap her.

This time, Cassian managed to read her in full, knowing exactly what doubts and reserves were staining her composure—especially with her feeling so weak. There was no way she'd be able to keep anything from him in her state. So he indulged.

"We…don't know why Rhane turned tides like that. Draven thinks—he thinks Rhane was acting in self defense, disobeying orders out of personal conviction, or that he was only planning to—to—." Cassian's breathing had adopted just the barest erratic rhythm that Jyn summoned the energy to reach out and swathe his wrist with her hand.

"Hey, hey," she whispered feebly, wishing more than anything that she could move to hold him "S'okay." He looked as breakable as ever, but she didn't let that deceive her from the strength she knew was cabled deep beneath him still. It was a case of which came first: her love for him which made him strong, or his strength that made her love him?

Cassian bit his bottom lip and swallowed a deep knot in his throat before he continued. "Draven thinks," he cleared his throat, "Rhane only meant to critically maim you temporarily before he could treat you—save you in Imperial custody like they did your father."

"How're you?" Jyn didn't like talking about herself more than she had to. And suddenly she felt as though she'd missed out on something.

He looked like he wanted to smile. But perhaps he was tired, too. "You're asking about my well-being?"

Jyn blinked sleepily and mumbled what she hoped was, "Of course."

That didn't sit too well with her captain. His lips tightened, and his eyes went dark as if in remembrance of some offense. When he saw she'd noticed, he abruptly softened again, making a point to move closer so he could better cradle her hand and she wouldn't have to strain to speak so loudly. At this proximity, his lips looked almost colorless, and his skin was dull.

"I just want you to focus on getting better." His gaze was unwavering and deliberate as he rested his elbows on the side of her bed. It wasn't until Cassian guided her hand to his lips so he could plant a chaste kiss into the curve of her fingers that she noticed it. With the new positioning of their arms, Jyn saw something that nearly made her heart stop.

A surge of energy quickened her breathing and caused her to sit up—something she'd thought would have been impossible for at least a few more days.

"Jyn—?!"

"What the hell is that?"

Suddenly too much of it made sense. The warmth she felt—the threat of it. His pallidness.

An insistent hand was on her chest in an instant, pushing her back against her bed. She would've fought against it had her vision not gone black from the sudden movement she'd just made. Realizing she'd pass out if she didn't acquiesce, Jyn let herself be guided gently back to her original position, heart still fluttering wildly under her chest in ways that felt all wrong now.

"Dammit, Cas'n, what've you done—what're you doing?" It was almost embarrassing just how tired out that one simple motion had made her.

But she couldn't ignore the matching IV sticking out of Cassian's arm either—a tube taught with the steady flow of blood.

"I told you not to mess with that. Now, please, don't try something like that again—"

"Cassian."

His gaze flicked between her eyes while he figured out how to answer. "You needed a transfusion—"

"You alr'dy said that," she snapped with as much venom as she could manage.

"—you were bleeding out, still suffering from septicemia from your shoulder, and…and they needed a donor." If he didn't look so tired, she might have tried shouting at him, although, she wasn't sure she'd be in the best of conditions to do that either.

"No one else could've done that?" Her eyes roved the curve of his form resting too dependently against her bed. "I mean," she refilled her lungs, "Force, Cassian, you were in ter'ble shape las'time I saw you. Giv'me one good r'son not t'pull this out ri'now," she panted. Her words may have been weak, but her gaze rivaled his as much as she was able.

At this question his lips quirked. "My blood has no antibodies—Jerikko knew your system would accept it. Besides it was my blood that should've been spilled out there—I owed you some back. Now if you touch that again I'll have the nurses put you out." That last bit had been thrown in so nonchalantly that Jyn missed her opportunity to give him a hard time about it.

Jyn shook her head. He owed her nothing. Her actions were as self-preserving as they were sacrificing. Jyn would never have survived losing Cassian. Her own death she could face, but not his. So she squeezed his hand, hoping it conveyed all the apologies he didn't want to hear.

But there was still something she needed to know. Something that didn't add up and, in her history with Saw, when things didn't make sense, it meant someone had paid the price somewhere else. Nothing was free. Life was never just given back.

"Cassian," she started, her tone something entirely new, which guaranteed his concern right away. "I—" she coughed a little and Cassian reached for the water again, but she waved him away. Instead, she just looked at him, eyes wide in confusion and said one word. "How?"

How am I here? How am I alive?

Jyn was no medic, but that wound should have killed her unless they managed to find bacta for her within ten or fifteen minutes of boarding the ship. And as far as Jyn knew, their bacta stashes had long since depleted. Not to mention, they were too many hyperspace jumps away from any planet that would have the resources to treat her in time.

And if the blood loss didn't kill her, then her septicemia sure should have. While a blood transfusion was a good start, unless they had literally managed to replace every single drop of her original contaminated circulatory system, which seemed not only highly unlikely, but highly impossible given their lack of donors besides Cassian, she should be dead. Through and through. Jyn should not have been alive right now. And the fact that she was scared her more and more every second she thought about it—and thought about why.

Cassian watched her for a moment, his gaze measuring, his face blank, no doubt processing how to best answer. Because he knew exactly what she meant just with that single word. A sigh pressed from his lips in defeat and he opened his mouth to answer. "Jyn, there's a reason I'm your donor." Jyn stiffened, fearful of what could come next. "It, uh…kriff, sorry, there isn't an easy explanation for this, but it has to do with your—"

Just then another presence drew around the door to her bay in the med ward. "You'd think a stocked rebel base would have better caf than what we had on Hoth, but Yavin just loves to make a liar out of me. Here, Cass, hope you take your bean water black 'cause—kriffin' galaxies, she lives!"

"Jecht Sepsom," she sampled his whole name. "Once ag'n—one of th' few times I'll admit it—it's good t'see you." In all general senses of the admittance, she was being honest, but she couldn't tell if immediately she was grateful or annoyed at his appearance just before Cassian was about to explain the truth behind how she could have possibly survived what she did. Cassian's reluctance to divulge could only mean that perhaps not knowing was more blissful, even if at some point she would have to find out.

Jecht made like he wanted to clap her on the shoulder, realized his hands were full and set down his cups. Even after that, he still sat back. "Jesus, you look like shit, Erso." Jecht noticed, earning an eye roll from Jyn.

"How astute of you," Jyn slurred without finesse.

"I'd punch some hello's into you if I weren't so afraid to break ya."

"Probably for the best," Cassian's eyebrows lined with skepticism, but he was still amused.

"What? All muscles need a good tenderizing everyone once in awhile—keep 'em fresh and limbered. You think I trained to keep my rankings during our annual re-qualifying exams? Heck no, I just paid one of my men to lay some knuckles into them here muscles!" He flexed. "What'ya think? Huh?"

Cassian grimaced. "I think it's time to get back to the formal training, you old marshmallow. Besides—you haven't reported for re-quals in over five years."

"Ahh, you spoil the fun, Andor."

"Very han'sme physique, Jecht," Jyn egged.

"Ay," Cassian laughed in annoyance, "don't blow up his ego."

"He's just young and spritely, still," Jecht addressed Jyn around the captain, sipping his caf. "Don't let him fool you with his tough exterior—he's all soft on the inside—uck! This is god-awful. Cass, you want mine?"

Cassian quirked a brow. "I'm on the clock, General." He motioned down his arm at the red tube still pulsing away. "You can get me a water if you want. Gonna have to re-juice at some point. But chemicals are probably not the way to go."

Jecht blinked a few times.

"Not m'idea," Jyn disclaimed. "I alr'dy tried yanking it out. Maybe you'll've better luck."

Jecht picked up the string she'd laid down for him. "Whoa, whoa, now, Captain. I'm with Erso on this one. The nurses said you'd given too much already. Let's slow down, here."

"What."

Cassian grimaced.

"Cassian."

"Dammit, Jecht." Cassian drew a hand down his face.

Jyn pushed herself up onto her elbows, ignoring the rush of blood from her head, and sat up so she could begin rolling the clamp down the tubing to cut off the connection.

"Qué pasa—?!"

She batted his hand and kept on her work. As soon as the clamp was tight and preventing blood flow, Jyn almost sat back in satisfaction but, instead, reeled from her motion. Something in her throat was upset with her sudden movement and she choked on it, coughing several times until she was completely huddled against her knees.

"Jyn!?" Cassian's hand had flown to her shoulder, the other gripping the wrist that was gatekeeping at her mouth until whatever it was finally came out into her hand.

A red clot.

Before she could even process what'd just happened, exhaustion stole all cognizance out from under her and collapsed back into the cot without vision. Something hot and bitter was weighing her tongue down and narrowing her throat, but her cough reflex was stunned. All she could was lay there, virtually unresponsive.

"Force. Jyn!" Someone was feeling her neck, palming her face. When something warm and thick leaked from the corner of her mouth, the voice became frantic. "JYN!? Get a medic—go get someone, now!"

In her mind, she wasn't sure how much time had passed, but it felt as though whoever had left for help was only gone for the duration of one breath. But that wasn't how time worked, was it? Things took longer than that.

"Shit, she's re-opened her stitches—"

"Cassian, what happened?"

"I-I don't know—" his voice sounded farther away. "She'd regained consciousness—I gave her a drink and then—yo no sé, pienso que mi transfusión de sangre—it upset her, and she—" more curses.

"Hey, hey—I need you to breathe for me. We're going to help her."

Nothing on Jyn's body was responding. It was scaring her—this paralysis.

"Her levels have dropped—we need more fluids. I'm gonna need lactated ringers. Someone else get me some EKG patches and a monitor datapad, an intubater and breathing tube."

"She needs blood—we know her stores aren't making more right now. Bacta treatment compromises certain marrow functions until the bacta is worked out of the system."

"Yes—yes, bacta replaces the normal physiological immune system, b—ut we don't have blood."

"I do."

Silence.

"Cass—"

"—Jecht, please. …I was bringing her levels up, Jerikko, I was in the middle of a transfusion before—" he didn't finish. Or if he did, Jyn didn't catch it.

"Our logs have you over limits, Captain. My medical license prohibits me from allowing another to harm themselves for the sake of a patient."

"And my ranking overrides your authority. I volunteer as a donor and her IV is still viable. Restart the transfusion."

More silence.

"That's an order, private."

"Aye, sir."

No, no, no, no, no, no—wake up, wake up. WAKE UP. She couldn't let Cassian do this again.

"You're not my Captain—I'm under no orders from anyone, don't make me subdue you." It must've been Jecht, now, who was arguing with him.

"You can try. But how far do you think you'll honestly get?"

"Cass—you know I want her to live, too, but there has to be someone else who can—"

"There isn't."

"Deep breath, Captain. Rolling up clamp now. Make a fist." Jerikko's voice was full of static. The warmth returned—the sickening warmth that meant lives were being traded.

Jecht didn't relent. "How can you know that?"

"Because!" Cassian's voice dimmed after his exclamation. "Because there is something in my blood that can save her—something no one else has."

Silence. Silence. Silence.

"Im going to have to open her up to see if she ruptured her internal suturing—we can't have her hemorrhaging with new blood coming in."

"Jerikko." Cassian's voice was disapproving, but betrayed panic deep within.

"I know, I know. Jecht, I need you to find morphine, intravenous anesthesia, surgical tools, gauze, and another set of hands. Hurry."

"She's already out—!"

"Her nerve endings need to be dulled—we don't know when she'll wake up, now, General Sepsom!"

A new warmth—not the nauseating one pooling in her veins—a sweet warmth that tickled her cheek, fanned over her face and between her fingers that had suddenly become elevated—held steady with the grip of another. The voice was choked but close, right by her temple—and almost too quiet, but still it begged: "I need you to fight, Jyn. You don't get to die on me, do you understand? Come back to me. Come back—"

A soft touch of lips pressed next to her own. "Come back—"

I love you. I love you.

She wanted to kiss him—to tell him she would always fight. Trust went both ways after all. But something slipped into her system and shut it down. She prayed to whoever was listening that it was the anesthesia, holding onto the last memory of Cassian's calloused hands pressed into hers, his whispers soft and urgent over her clammy skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I promise Jyn is almost done being wumped on. But I promised you angst so I am going to deliver.
> 
> Next update: Jyn regains consciousness (second time's the charm?) and we see some road to recovery and mutual pine fest from afar. Also...danger lurks for Yavin IV.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Good morrow, my readers. I am beyond exhausted because exams are still in full swing, but duty to my story as well as all your lovely support caffeinates me. This chapter was really fun to write because I always wanted to write a mission scene and examine how our rebels function undercover (as is so popular to do in this tag). But please enjoy a little recovery-induced flashback scene, because, let's face it, Jyn is kindof drugged up, so of course her mind is all over the place. (Also slight warning for the pig that is the target in this mission. He gets a little handsy and vulgar, but nothing bad actually happens. So skip the bar scene if you feel you must). ENJOY

This time, when Jyn came to, it was with much more clarity than before. Her thoughts slotted into place like gears that them cranking. It was refreshing to shake off the disorientation of illness for the first time since she'd contracted her septicemia.

Gods, she hoped that meant it was taken care of at this point.

"You with me, Erso?"

Jyn scrunched her eyes and lips in sync, testing the muscles in her face. All responding. She let her eyes drift open and air entered her nose unimpeded.

Lavidean Slahlvo had had his feet kicked up on the end of her bed, but at her new consciousness, his knees bent until his feet slipped under him and he leaned forward.

"Welcome back…again, so I hear. You've been through quite the mill haven't you? Always seem to make it out in one piece…more or less."

Jyn groaned. She wanted to swear, but there were too many options. "Still hurts."

"I'd be more concerned if it didn't—they doped you up on a lot to get you through that last episode it sounds like."

This time, Jyn didn't need someone to pass her a water. Her arms felt like they'd shed every muscle she had, but she was strong enough to do things on her own this time. She took a much less painful sip and felt the liquid slide into an empty stomach.

Too bad she wasn't hungry—that seemed like something she'd have to accommodate in the near future, appetite or no.

"Where is everyone?" Last time she'd been awake, it had been quite the powwow in her room—Jerikko, Jecht, no doubt some nurses, and of course her captain.

"Well," Slahlvo leaned forward onto his knees and peered through his hair, which had gotten longer. He usually kept it cropped close to his hairline. "Who do you wanna know about? Most of them are scattered to the wind in different locations."

"They sent out a mission?!"

"Kriff—no! Calm down, it's alright! We're grounded for a few weeks. Especially with the Imperial blockade over Yavin. People have been whispering about evac in the near future. But until we're ordered to leave, Mon Mothma's been checking in on everyone who was part of the Hoth escape. She even stopped by your bay for a few minutes. Jerikko let her look at your chart and everything. Not like he lets anyone else make a compromised medic out of him, 'cept maybe your insistent captain. Jeez," he breathed, "no one can tell that man what to do when he's set his heart on something."

Jyn bit the inside of her cheeks. Evacuation of Yavin IV? Where would they go? She knew it was only a matter of time before the empire struck their headquarters, but she'd just hoped it wouldn't be right after she and everyone had Hoth had just nearly escaped death. She didn't even want to think about all those who didn't escape.

"Okay. No mission. Somewhere on Yavin IV, I suppose?"

Slahvlo took a deep breath and sat back in his chair. One of his hands tugged through his hair and the other gestured at nothing in particular. "Jecht is off galavanting through the halls looking for privates to terrorize or gamble with. He wanted to stay, but he said something about his friends aging him; I don't know, he seemed pretty peeved. Jerikko put our favorite captain on bed-arrest after nearly bleeding himself out during your surgery."

Her chest banged. "But…" she hoped he would finish her sentence, but he didn't oblige. "He's okay?"

Slahlvo cleared his throat. "That's not the word I would use, but, sure, I guess. He's okay. Or at least…he's going to be."

Jyn squeezed her eyes shut and leaned back against her pillow, suddenly feeling aches that hadn't been there before.

"Lavidean?" Jyn's voice was small.

Slahlvo perked at the sound of his first name. "Jyn."

"Do me a favor?"

"You have my attention."

"Handcuff Captain Andor to his cot."

Slahlvo watched her for a second, turning over her request. Then he barked a laugh. "Oh, Erso," he puffed, "you and I both know it's going to take more than a couple of rebel-grade stun cuffs to keep that intelligence officer at bay, even in his condition."

Jyn winced at that last word, but she knew he was right. She recalled one mission she had been on with him in vivid detail. Anesthetic drugs made her memory swim into the now.

It'd been a simple "infilt-rieval plant" mission: infiltrate the data system, retrieve the intel, plant the bug. Whatever system they were hacking would determine whether the spyware was a keylogger, if the mission were low stakes, or a gateway siphon to a third-party rebel station for when the mission was ill-contained to a single hardware.

In any case, the mission should have been simple. Normally, Jyn was not authorized to accompany intelligence on their "infilt-rieval plants," but Rosado and Mothma had approached Jyn about a possible systems security position on the next mission out. Since Cassian had just taken a mission of his own and Tavion had been working double shifts to cover new Hoth recruits, Jyn had seen no reason to say no.

So she was shipped out only seven hours after accepting the position with a four and a half hour jump to hyperspace to learn her new persona. The planet was Geonosis—it had been a construction site for her father's infamous Death Star. Even though it ended up moving after the Clone Wars, the rubble from the expenditure had left an impressive ring of debris, and a whole lot of possible information and contacts still receiving imperial orders without the burden of imperial colonization.

Still, Jyn had to be cautious. Clearly it was still not a safe planet if she had to become Vatarii L'hnnar, a housekeeper at the Petranaki Regency Suites hotel. She was supposed to be meeting Trins Durron, an officer employed to patrol the building after hours, who was also being played by another rebel assigned to this mission from a different base.

Mon Mothma didn't give her Trins's real name, which was probably for the best, but she worried about identifying her partner. She did say that he would be coming from Yavin IV and he would have blonde hair, brown eyes, and a scar connecting the corner of his lips to his chin.

Apparently, the man they were trying to tag was a traveling weapons dealer who'd been called to Geonosis for an underground gladiatorial battle that was set to happen at the Petranaki arena only a few sectors away.

The battle was nothing they occupied themselves with, but the man in question, Thraken Renarus, was believed to have coordinates to his buyers in his personal datapad. Since it was known that over half of his buyers were undisclosed imperial holds, or else, intermediates to these holds, acquiring this information would give the rebels a huge advantage over knowing where to strike or where to avoid.

All Jyn had to do was plant the bug. But she couldn't get into the apartment with out the officer access chip through the door, and then another stun to the safe to find his decrypting information. High profile customers did not receive routine cleanings, she needed special access. Of course, she could always just do simple re-routes through his firewalls to get into his datapad, but that would take about an hour longer.

Jyn had actually been carrying out Vatarii's duties as a housekeeper for several hours after her arrival before she commed over her to her flight crew hiding in the dessert to check in. They'd flown-in under disguise of a cargo ship bringing resources to the local markets and vendors to be sold at higher prices. But that meant their ship was nothing special, unfortunately. Incognito bred the function out of things somethings.

She'd stumbled into the fresher of one the suites she'd been turning down, dragging her rolling bucket after her before closing the door.

"Hoth 3-24 cargo, this is L'hnnar, where is my officer?" She squeezed the com a little too hard, but she was frustrated. She didn't take this job so she could clean the piss off of tenants' floors. And she was about to miss her window. "3-24, do you copy? If Durron is not here in thirty, I lose my window to operate."

"L'hnnar, you were to refrain from calling until after the retrieval. We have orders to pick up from first point of contact," another annoyed voice crackled back through the speaker. Jyn hadn't particularly been thrilled with the captain assigned to their mission because he had never actually served in any rebel fleets, so he had an undeserved attitude and subsequently superiority problem, but she had no control over crew.

"Well this mission is void unless you find me my Durron." She'd pocketed the com and shouldered out of the fresher, switching the comlink to silent in case her pilot decided to answer back with a snide comment like he most likely would.

After another twenty minutes without contact, Jyn had decided to try a different tactic. It had not been one they agreed on, but she was out of time and out of options. Thraken Renarus would be returning any minute now, and she needed to get inside his room.

Jyn had stashed her supplies around the corner before making quick work of her outfit. It was just standard-pressed maid's linens that she wore, but a little pulling and tugging and she was able to expose some more breast and leg than otherwise issued.

She yanked the band from her hair and shook out the waves so they flowed over her shoulders instead. And, gods, she hated herself for this next part, she pinched her cheeks and snuck into a woman's bathroom to steal some make-up. Kohl for her eyes and rouge for her cheeks had her looking like the kind of doll a weapons dealer would love to spend the night with without suspecting her an infiltrator.

She was just turning off the light when the doors to the turbolift rolled open. A hairless man made of nothing but muscle strolled out, a drink in his hand and dealer's robes shrouding his bulging physique. Jyn almost gulped. But then remembered her character. Vatarii needed to appeal to this man.

So she rolled her cart out of the room she'd just been in and closed it like she'd just finished, bending low so her bottom strained in her skirt in Renarus's direction.

"Apologies, miss, would I be able to squeeze past you and get to my room there?"

"Oh, of course, sir," Jyn made her voice higher. "No apologies necessary, really, it was my fault for being in the way of a man…such as yourself." She allowed her eyes to linger on his lips while her tongue wet her own seductively. From under her eyelashes, she peered up at him, watching in disgusted satisfaction as his own darkened gaze fell towards the cleft in her shirt.

"Is there…anything else you need, sir?"

Renarus grunted and straightened up. He shed his robe and handed it to the man behind him. "Turn down my room, Cale. I might be back up…with company later." He said that last part quietly as if trying to make sure she didn't hear, but she knew he wanted her to hear.

Dread settled in her chest at what she was about to do.

"Are you working, miss?"

"Oh, no, sir. I just finished my last room."

"Come have a drink with me."

The man gripped her forearm and almost began dragging her along when he must've realized how possessive that looked. So he settled for a light pressure on her lower back, ticking the skin under her uniform. Jyn wanted to squirm.

They'd made it down to the bar, and Jyn's spirits lifted. If she could maybe get him drunk enough, she could slip something into his drink to knock him out. But no sooner—men who worked for the empire were trained to notice a spiked drink when they had their wits about them.

Renarus sat her down on his lap and fanned her hair away from her neck with a hot hand so he could speak close to her ear. "You are a creature I never expected to find on such a shit-hole of a planet, you know that, dear?"

Jyn pushed forth a timid smile. Dammit, her heart was going too fast. She needed to calm down. Intelligence officers did not compromise this easily under uncomfortable situations.

"I suppose you could say the feeling is mutual, sir."

The catina-tender passed them drinks that Jyn hadn't heard him order and she suddenly was wary to drink it. Did he know?

"Is everything alright, ma'am?" A new voice over her shoulder sent ice picks into Jyn's heart. She knew that voice—not the accent, per se, but the voice definitely. "Sir?"

It was everything she could do not to whip her head around to confirm her suspicion because that would give away that she potentially knew him.

With a delicate twist of her neck, keeping her eyes low, Jyn raised them enough to confirm that it was, indeed, Cassian Andor standing just next to them at the bar, donned in an officer's uniform with the letters "Durron" embroidered over the badges. He'd slicked his hair back and his scruff had darkened considerably over his chin. Even his posture was different—a little more slouched than usual, like he spent many hours on duty lounging at many different bars waiting for fights to break out.

Her eyes searched his for any sign of recognition. But all she could see was the resolution of Trins Durron, an officer checking in on a hotel housekeeper with what could be an unruly tenant.

"We're just fine, officer," Renarus answered for her. "She's with me."

"I asked the lady," Durron spoke with a drawl too. Everything about him seemed slower, and if Jyn didn't know it was actually Cassian, she might not have felt as confident in Durron's ability to actually keep someone like Vatarii safe from a man like Renarus. Jyn didn't need the help. But a fragile housekeeper? She was at the mercy of this weapon's dealer with or without a lazy officer.

"And I answered for the lady," Renarus growled. "Is there a problem, officer?"

Cassi—Durron's gaze trailed towards the dealer's. "I trust the lady would'a said so if there was," he acknowledged.

Renarus grunted. "That's right. So move along, we'll be on our way back up to our lodgings after I finish this drink."

Jyn let Vatarii slip just for a moment to look for Cassian in Durron's eyes one more time before he paced away, hands behind his back. She knew he would be keeping close surveillance on the two of them, which helped ease some of her discomfort. But now she wasn't sure how the rest of the mission was going to play out now—his arrival being more something unexpected and worrisome.

Renarus turned back towards the woman on his lap and took some of her hair into his hands. "What's your name, darling?"

She needed to keep him drinking.

"Vatarii, sir. But some of my friends back home call me Tarii. Could we just stay—just for a few more drinks, please?"

He purred and touched a wet kiss to her shoulder, sniffing her hair as he did.

This time, Jyn couldn't stop the small recoil at the motion, and Renarus didn't miss it either.

"Hey, hey, hey—you mind telling me what that just was, there sweetheart?"

Jyn had to think fast. "No, I—I—"

Shite, she'd messed up.

"You, what? You thought you'd come down here and have a few drinks with me, get me drunk enough so you could steal some money off me? I look like a nice rich guy you can sleep with for money, huh? 'Cause you don't look as expensive as the look in your eyes thinks you deserve, I'll tell you that right now, cheap bitch."

"No—I wasn't doing anything for the money, I—" Jyn was actually afraid now, but she needed to stay in character if she was going to have to try to fight this man later. Maybe she could get out of his grip, but she couldn't take him down. So she knew she'd have to settle for running. And then she'd have to go for a few miles to make sure she wasn't followed before calling her crew.

If Cassian played his cards right, he could avoid this fight and get into the room and get the information they needed, assuming he'd been briefed on the mission and how to hack, that was.

Force, she kriffed this up so badly.

"Why was that officer poking his fuckin' nose around here, anyway, huh? You sneaking around my apartment, looking for reasons to rat on me?"

"No, I swear, I don't want anything—"

"Good," he snarled, throwing back his drink and standing up. He tossed a few slips of galactic currency at the cantina-tender and yanked Vatarii towards the turbolift again. "Then you're going to prove that upstairs in my quarters, or I'm going to ring your neck, you got that?"

The turbolift had been taking a little longer to arrive, so Renarus bent down and tried to take Jyn's face in his hands. A hot tongue found its way into her mouth and she had to stop herself from biting it. He tasted like rusting metal.

His hands were about to roam further down past her shoulders when the contact abruptly cut off the same time a loud crunch sounded next to her ear.

Jyn blinked rapidly, wiping the stink of Renarus from her mouth as she took in the sight of the weapon's dealer pinned to the ground by none other than Cassian, who had most certainly just punched the man assaulting her judging by the rapidly swelling split lip the man was now sporting and the bloodied knuckle at Cassian's side dripping from where the punch had rent his skin.

Before she could gather her thoughts enough to question Trins Durron, a syringe had appeared in Renarus's neck and his eyes slipped closed.

This time, when Durron turned around to face Jyn, it was Cassian who met her gaze, not some low-grade officer strolling the streets of a liquified city. And he was looking at her with worry.

He stepped off Renarus and towards Jyn tentatively, like he was afraid she might run away. When she didn't move or answer him, he moved forward and began to look her over more carefully, careful not to lay his hands on her.

"We need to get into his room and get those coordinates," Cassian mumbled while he checked her over.

"What are you doing here?" She gently pushed his hands away so he was forced to look at her.

"I could ask you the same question," he glowered.

"Where is the real Trins Durron? The blond one with a scar on his chin—from Yavin?"

"His ship went MIA en route to Geonosis. We're thinking they were stopped at a security check point on their way in and got caught."

The turbolift had finally arrived, so they climbed in and Jyn's access card got them to the fourth floor where Renarus was staying.

"You could have compromised the mission," she scolded him, unable to get the image of their target lying unconscious on the floor of some hotel cantina out of her mind. Someone would find him and come looking in his room. They'd have to move fast.

She knew he didn't need telling. He was the intelligence officer after all. But he still responded with ice in his voice. "The mission was already compromised."

The doors dinged open. "We'll need to be quick," Jyn led them to his room in swift but quiet strides.

And they were quick. With Cassian's access keys, they broke into Renarus' room no problem. Jyn made decent work of his security before laying a tracer in his systems to be coded back to base.

"Everything he sends, we receive. Everything he opens, we can now access. But not until he opens them," Jyn typed furiously, putting back all the walls she'd momentarily dismantled.

"Wait, wait, wait, why can't we just access everything now?" Cassian had been guarding the door, but looked over his shoulder with a frown on his face. "We need that info."

"Can't," she answered easily but not without disappointment. "He also has trackers installed. I'd be worried if he didn't, actually, because it would mean he's not a highly-monitored vendor and perhaps his buyers don't need the protection of cyber security. But all of our access into his data has to be passive. He has to do it first and it will just slide over to our systems. If we go in there to actually download from his files, we'll leave tracks that he can trace."

They made sure to leave everything the way it was before slipping from the hotel and calling their ride home. Much to Jyn's relief, even though Cassian out-ranked her current pilot on her crew, he opted to stay back in the cargo holds with Jyn.

They had been sitting side-by-side in silence for several hours before Jyn finally spoke. "I never, uh, thanked you, for—for taking care of Renarus." She was careful not to fidget.

"I had no doubts you could've handled him," Cassian had been leaned back against the cargo door with his eyes shut in sleepless rest. "But, with the way he was treating you," he gave a humorless laugh, "I wanted to feel his cheekbone crack under my own knuckles. Selfish, I know."

Jyn traced her gaze down to the split skin over his right hand that she'd missed before. It was a weird sight to be heartwarming.

Still, she wasn't sure how to respond. "It's good to see you," she tried. He had been gone for almost two weeks now, and she'd only gotten minimal updates on the status of their mission.

He opened his eyes and pushed himself up a little so he could see her better. "It's good to see you, too, Jyn." He repositioned himself. "Care to share why you were on this mission at all, though?"

If he wasn't careful, she'd snap at him. "Well it's not like you could've done it, and we're a little short-staffed over on Hoth. They needed a hacker. Just so happened that my skill-set fit the bill. It was within my capabilities and no one could've stopped me," she added in the last bit as a warning.

He backed down. But he still didn't look pleased.

"Are you to return to your mission?" She was wary of his answer.

"Not sure I can," he looked down at his hands. "You know? I kinda blew my cover on the way out of my last known location."

"Yeah," Jyn awkwardly agreed. "I—yeah. Thanks. Again. You really saved our asses back there, mine in particular."

He looked at her with the same eyes that bore into hers those nights they needed the other to keep away the dreams of Scarif. But they still had never talked about those encounters, both content to just let them happen for both of their benefit and continue on with their duties as comrades.

When Jyn had asked him how he managed to get there so quickly, Cassian had merely shrugged.

"I mean," she huffed, "the expected Durron must have only registered as MIA an hour or two before you showed up."

It wasn't until later that Mon Mothma told her Cassian had asked for frequent updates on her while he was away that she figured out how he knew. As soon as Jyn radioed back to her flight crew, they must've commed back to base and let the system analysts waiting for the intel know.

"Once I'd heard you were without assistance on your Intelligence Mission," Mon Mothma had told her, "I knew who would be at your side in the quickest time possible. So I made a call."

She even found out that Cassian had been stun-cuffed to a holding cell, undercover as a prisoner of war, when he received word of Jyn's situation. How he got out of there and managed to find a ride over to her planet so quickly, Jyn had never asked.

But now, with Slahlvo sitting at her bedside laughing at her request because they both knew stun-cuffing him to his cot would never work, she promised herself she would ask him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading as always :)
> 
> Next update: More recovery and a postponed evacuation of Yavin IV. Our two rebels are the worst at pining from afar.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the double then with an update, my readers! I know it took a little longer this time, but I wanted to make sure I got this chapter right. And I think I got it to the place I wanted it. Nice long chapter for you for this installation. CAN YOU SAY EVAC? #Angst #Pining #HappyReading

Two nights passed without much consequence. Jecht had made a habit of visiting her just before lunch so he could bring her better food than whatever they had planned to feed her that day. But after he checked-in on how she was faring, he'd usually disappear again for the rest of the afternoon.

It wasn't until Jyn asked for word on Tavion that her path stunned in front of her again. One of her closest friends from Hoth had not been located in any of the ships that left Hoth. Slahlvo had been the one to tell her, but surprisingly, Xone Kasra was with him to break the news.

Not that Jyn was expecting a cold shoulder from Kasra, but she never really felt as though her friend's superior truly cared for her substituents. But seeing the woman shelled before her with vacant eyes and ruddy cheeks that betrayed signs of crying sobered any animosity Jyn still retained for the somewhat-rude woman she'd butted heads with for so long.

"My sincerest condolences, Erso," Kasra had articulated with no lack of ice still in her voice. Jyn didn't take it personally this time. She'd bet Tavion's superior was just as upset with the loss as she was. And she didn't need a reaction from Jyn to make it worse.

The two had left at Jyn's request after hearing the news. She simply wished to be alone for a few hours to remember the sister she almost had. If Baze and Chirrut had been alive, they would have certainly called Tav "little sister" as well, just as they used to her. K2SO might have even taken to her friend, considering Tavion was much more buttery and less threatening than he assumed Jyn had been at the time.

If anyone should have died back on Hoth, it should never have been someone as full of hope and life as her friend. The galaxy needed soldiers with more spunk and life to them to keep color in this world.

And Jyn just felt lost in the wake of another death of someone so close. The list tattooed on her heart bled with fresh ink of another name all too often. So she hugged her pillow and waited for the grief to pass over her cheeks, refusing Jecht's company when he tried to see her later that day.

Jyn's bandages still had to be changed every couple of hours because of how much healing she still had left. Bacta could only do so much since there was a physiological dosing limit that Jyn had well exceeded. But she still wished to try moving around more.

Forget bedsores, Jyn was frustrated at the degree of atrophy that would soon begin to occur if she didn't get moving soon. But she didn't have her necklace to give her the boost in mental strength she would have liked. For whatever reason, she could not remember what had happened to her Kyber crystal.

It was a little more than unnerving because last she remembered, Cassain had given it back to her after his release from medbay all those months ago after Scarif. And she had worn it ever since. But now it was gone, most likely lost in the ice on Hoth along with Tav.

Her nurse, Dynclin, had been helping her stand the past few days. It was almost embarrassing how much she'd had to lean on him at first. But he kept up the encouragement, holding her as long as she needed it until the muscles of her legs flexed and kept her upright. It would be a long road to recovery, but she had already come so far.

The outlook for walking more than simply around her room was just beginning to look good when the whispers came true.

Jyn had decided to try walking on her own one day and had made it as far as the sink before sweat on her forehead beaded too heavily that it rolled down her temples when suddenly her door was nearly lifted from its hinges.

"Jecht, what the hell?"

"Get your things," Jecht barely even looked at her. He had busied himself with her equipment, striding over to the fridge to snag whatever fresh bacta was still in there.

"What's going on?" She ventured as she made to move back towards her bed. When Jecht saw how precarious her situation was, he immediately dropped his armload onto the chair that Slahlvo had been in not two hours before and damn near carried her back to her cot.

Jyn huffed at being man-handled, but traded her anger for silence if it meant Jecht would give her more answers. She began folding her extra set of clothes into a bag and a few of her notes and drawings she'd done in her boredom made it into the bag as well. Finally, the picture of her with Cassian, Jecht, Tavion, and a scratched out Drakkar also found its way into a zipper.

She pulled on her vest and nested her winter coat in the crook of her arm with her duffel.

"Jecht," she warned.

"Evac," he was breathless. A flurry of a man trying to make sure he got all of her necessities.

"What?" She jerked back like she'd been slapped. They'd all been expecting it. But somehow Jyn could never visualize the dissolution of Yavin IV.

"Evac to Endor, Jyn. Come on. Keep up."

Jyn let a growl slip up her throat but let him continue.

"Imperial blockade is advancing on us. General Dodonna is ordering all rebel personel off the moon as soon as possible. Unfortunately, the injured are a little lower on the triage solely based on how many resources and space they require. But squads will most likely be here in three hours to get all medbay patients taken care of."

"Three hours?" Jyn couldn't believe they would wait that long. If the blockade really was advancing, she wasn't sure they'd even have three hours. Suddenly her blood turned to ice.

"Cassian," her eyes widened, breath coming up short. He was a patient in the medbay too. What if he didn't know about the evacuation?

Jecht paused long enough to cast her an incredulous glance. "Who the Force do you think sent me, Jyn?"

"We need to find him—stick together. It's our best shot of getting all of us out of here."

Jyn grimaced through the pain of her abdomen and pushed herself from the bed. Now was as good a time as ever to test those new legs she'd been working on.

"Don't worry about me. You go find us a ride out of here, Jecht," Jyn ordered, waving him off when he moved to help support her. "Chances are any soldiers not cleared from medbay won't have access to ships."

"What about you?" Jecht took her bag from her arm so she wasn't so weighed down. He didn't seem like he wanted to disagree with her, but she knew he was ready to because someone most likely had asked him not to abandon her.

"I'll find Cassian and we'll meet you in the medbay loading hangar where the medical supplies come in," she assured him.

Jecht cast his gaze skyward for the briefest of moments, but Jyn had seen. "Gods, he is going to be so happy with me, right now, isn't he?"

"I told you, I'll deal with our stubborn Captain. You find us a ship."

Jecht nodded once and then pushed out the door with an assortment of hanging bags banging and spinning against his legs as he ran. He may have been older and out of his prime, with all of the sassy cynicism to go with age, but he still could move like a soldier. His spirit was as young as Jyn's.

Jyn steeled herself and pushed off from her cot. In the distance, she vaguely could pick out the blare of a siren. To less-trained ears, and to someone not listening for it, the sound could have easily gone undetected, especially through the medbay doors. It almost made her stomach churn to know they were leaving the patients in ward until space and time cleared up to save them all.

But right now her only concern was getting to Cassian. She knew his room number had put him down a few halls, but the path would be clear. So she set out.

By the time she reached the corner of the first hallway, sweat coated every surface of her body and blood was beginning to collect under her shirt.

Oh, great.

It was no surprise her stitches had blown again, seeing as how it had only been a few days since she'd wrecked them the first time. But the red spreading across her ribs and hip was an unwanted complication.

So Jyn pushed on, passing rooms of unwitting patients resting or sleeping.

What time was it? Surely it was only ten or eleven in the night. But everyone was fast asleep in their rooms while the moon was evacuated right under them.

Nurses bustled about every so often, clearly informed but ordered to remain at post.

Jyn was a little surprised none of them questioned her presence in the hallway, not to mention her less than scrupulous state. A patient wandering the halls with soiled bandages had to have been a violation of several of their codes. But if they knew about the evac like she though they did, then they were most certainly distracted by other, more pressing matters.

She had just rounded a corner, bracing herself against it for a break, when her weak reverie was snapped out from under her.

"Jyn!"

Her eyes snapped open and she quickly looked up to see Cassian moving towards her from down the hall. He also moved a little slowly, limping with a new injury she didn't know he had because every time she'd seen him since Hoth he'd been seated next to her. But then she remembered. He'd been crushed by a piece of Hoth's tunneling system. Of course he'd be limping right now. And his recent blood escapades would have kept him weak and prevented proper healing.

But she would fight him about that later. Right now, both of them were alive and neither of them was dying. And that was enough to urge her forward despite the screaming pain in her stomach and the weakness of her legs.

"Cassian." The relief in her voice breathed out like a sigh, her face breaking in excitement before tensing back up again to get her down that hallway.

The two broke for each other, moving as fast as they could—Cassian was faster and limped quickly towards Jyn before she could stress herself out too much.

Jyn forgot how much she'd missed him. In her anger of his sacrificing tendencies, the death of her friend, and the rigor in regaining use of her legs again, Jyn had forgotten how much life Cassian breathed into her. And suddenly she needed him like she needed air, which was most likely the only reason she was still standing at the moment. Because she had never gotten this far in all her therapy in her room.

Her vision clouded and she almost laughed at the absurdity of her tears and wiped at them haphazardly to keep them from falling while she pushed on slowly towards Cassian, leaning heavily against the walls for support.

When he was close enough, Jyn nearly fell into his arms, Cassian striding the last few steps very quickly at the sight of just how weak Jyn still was. And he readily slid his arms under her to catch her before she could fall, supporting her against his chest before lowering them to their knees so they could lean on each other without risk of toppling the other.

He crushed her to him, Jyn readily letting herself be molded into the lines of his body and gripping him back with whatever strength she had left, which by no means rivaled his. But the contact relieved the tight pain in her chest.

Jyn buried her face into the slope of his neck against his chest and inhaled, letting the faint scent of blaster oil, sweat, Festian snow, and a fourth ineffable scent that belonged only to him leech her stress away. She ran her lips along the ridge of his collarbone, trying to remember every curve of his body. His arms were wound tightly around her with a strength reserved for desperation, and she could feel a wet heat over her hair.

Confused, Jyn pulled back and observed Cassian only to feel her heart stumble.

There were tears in Cassian's eyes, too.

"Cassian," she questioned with a voice lighter than she knew was possible.

His thumb quickly brushed over her cheek and rescued one of her own tears. "What a mess we both are, huh?" He smiled sadly, ghosting his other thumb delicately across her lip. "You scared me half to bloody death, Jyn, damn you."

When his voice cracked, so did Jyn's heart. Suddenly she knew what he needed, and thank the force she did, because looking into his eyes so nearly broken with worry was making that air she needed so badly harder to find. So she pushed herself back into his chest and embraced him more tightly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, finding peace in the metronomic speed of his heart under her ear. "I'm sorry, Cassian. I'm here—you brought me home. We're okay now."

He was just barely shaking under her arms, but he seemed perfectly comfortable just to hold her for a few minutes while she convinced him she wasn't going anywhere. Jyn didn't protest when his embrace became almost a little too tight. She had to time her breathing up with his just so she could make sure her lungs had room to expand.

She knew the feeling well. Only a few days ago, she'd been convinced Cassian had been blown up in the Imperial raid on Hoth. Her whole world might as well have come crashing down around her without him. So, yeah, she knew exactly the kind of panic he'd been feeling these last few days, and the utter agony it must have been to be separated from her.

Now she certainly felt horrible for making Jecht ensure that he stayed in bed.

But it was for his own good that he wasn't allowed to be near her so he could keep hooking up her transfusion to his arm—something she reminded herself to ask him about.

"We need to move," Jyn reminded him, moving the fingers that had tangled in his hair down his neck as if it might coax him back from the edge of his fear.

Cassian didn't answer, but she did feel him nod before he moved to press his lips to her temple. Jyn's lips hooked into the barest of smiles at the pressure, and she returned the kiss into his neck, whispering a few more assurances into the skin there.

She gave him a few more seconds before she loosened her grip, cueing both to release each other and get to their feet again, with no shortage of struggling on Jyn's part.

But she didn't have to struggle long before strong arms had looped under her arms and lifted her until her legs could support her weight. She leaned heavily against his chest for a few seconds just to collect her muscles.

Even after she was standing, though, Cassian didn't let go of her. She could tell he wanted to sling her arm around his shoulders so he could bear most of her weight, but being so much taller than her, she would have had a hard time reaching the ground.

So instead, he settled for looping an arm around her waist and leaning her against his side as much as she needed, her other arm hooked tight in his inner elbow that could have passed for an endearing escort if the situation had been different.

Before they started moving, Jyn could feel him still watching her. There were plenty of things she could do to hopefully ease his worries, but the only option that came to mind was leaning up to press a kiss against the hollow of his jaw. His lips were a little far away for their current posture.

"Thanks for coming for me, again," she leaned her forehead into the side of the crook under his neck, and it seemed to do the trick.

"All the way," he reminded her. And then they were off.

"I told Jecht we'd meet him in medbay hangar. But…" Jyn glanced around at the quiet rooms they passed.

"I know." Of course Cassian knew what she was thinking. "But this evacuation is not standard. We can't take any chances. Besides," he continued, "we'll need our own ship if we're to rescue your father. And I'm not sure another Rogue crew would sit well with the alliance or with you, for that matter."

Jyn's heart stalled.

"What?" she breathed.

"We're getting your father back, Jyn." His words were as solid as he was, his voice more sincere than she deserved. "And this time, we aren't leaving without him."

At that she stopped, unable to go further.

"Jyn?" Cassian was suddenly alarmed. "I'm sorry, I—"

Without warning, she pressed herself between his arms for a second time since they'd been reunited. "All the way," she echoed softly into his chest, doing everything in her power to stave off the tears.

After all this time, Cassian not only came back for her, he went forward for her as well.

She knew he was right that they couldn't alert the other patients, because then they'd run the risk of not getting to their ship. But that didn't make Jyn feel any less terrible about herself. So after she released her captain, they continued to push on pass the rooms of healing rebels, praying to whoever would listen that someone came for them soon.

It had only been a few minutes of trekking when suddenly a deep thunder rolled through the ground beneath their feet. They both stopped, Jyn looking up at Cassian with horrified eyes.

"They've breeched the base," she stated the obvious, hoping that he would disagree with her. But he just clenched is jaw and quickly detached his gaze from hers so he could scan the area for a faster route.

"We need to move faster," he spoke mostly to himself, but his gaze kept skipping around erratically. "Do you trust me?"

"You know the answer to that question," she was too hyped on adrenaline to be angry, and she probably would have said something more had he not immediately stooped to sweep her feet out from under her.

Jyn gasped and had to stop herself from sending a punch into his jaw at the sudden violation of her functional integrity. But then they were running—Cassian clutching Jyn under her knees and shoulders, the relief from being off her feet too great to protest.

Shite, she hadn't realized how much she'd been slowing them down. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, but it was masked by the red already there from her strenuous efforts of just getting down the hallway.

"Your stitches were bleeding again," Cassian reminded her with a tone that was leeching into his captain persona he only adopted when the situation demanded. "Don't be angry with me."

So he had noticed the burn in her cheeks. But he'd misinterpreted it. "'M not angry," she mumbled—not with him anyway, but herself for slacking on her P.T.

One nurse finally found the gumption to try and stop them from leaving, but Cassian shouldered past him, muttering Festian obscenities as the man yelled after them to get back to their cots.

By the time she did catch something in Basic, they were several paces down the next hallway. "They'd let us die here like animals caught in a trap. Increíble."

Finally, they rounded into the medbay hangar. Cassian immediately ducked them behind the first ship in sight. They weren't cleared to board any ship let alone try to pilot one out, even in the panic of an evac, the alliance was nothing if not something to be directed.

We've all done terrible things on behalf of the rebellion.

Jyn was just now starting to appreciate just how toxic order could be if it meant sacrificing the moral decision in favor of orderly triage. But then again, when disaster struck, were not the resources allotted to those who would make best use of them? Perhaps the severity of the evacuation was unknown to them. But they were able-bodied enough to spite the rules that told them they weren't abled-bodied enough to be saved. So it must have been a flaw in the system.

"Okay," Cassian said into the shell of her ear. "I'll cause a distraction on my way to open the gates, you get to the back of the hangar and find Jecht."

"Cassian." Jyn's heart was thudding, but it wasn't from the exertion or adrenaline of escaping.

"Get that bird running and keep the ramp open. You start it up as soon as the gates open."

"No. Cassian—"

"—No matter what, Jyn. You don't wait. I'll make it on board, I promise. But this can only work if you two do as I say. For your father, remember?"

Jyn stared at him with a malleable fierceness. She knew she couldn't argue with him, but that didn't stop him from nailing the point home.

"We aren't escaping without that gate opening first. And you are no condition to be our runner," he said, and then his lips flexed into what better not have been a smile, damn him. Always making light of his peril.

"Force, Cassian. You really are the worst."

"I am," he breathed just before leaning down and shutting up her protests with a kiss. It was painfully short, but its tenderness lingered in the soft caress of her hair meant to distract her from unwinding her grip on him. But she wasn't ready to let go yet, fingers curling vice into his shirt.

"You be careful," she ordered, hoping she could channel anger to mask her fear. "You come back, do you hear me? Or I'm coming after you."

Cassian's gaze sharpened at her last throw-in, but he allowed it. "Trust—"

"—goes both ways," she finished with him. The light in his eyes was unmistakably flickering, but it strobed brighter at her words. "I trust you."

Suddenly his lips pressed over hers again, but neither had the strength to allow it to become a kiss, simply breathing the other in, pressed together in a desperate denial, because what if it was the last time? Jyn let out a pained gasp, and she wasn't sure to be grateful or concerned that Cassian was able to realize it was not out of any physical pain—because it meant he felt the same.

Finally Cassian moved for the two of them.

"Go," he whispered urgently against her mouth, and then he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, as always. We are nearing the end here! But I can't leave you with Cassian in hot water again, so don't get too sad yet.
> 
> Review review review and let me know what kind of ending you'd like to see! I kind-of already have one picked out, but comments always influence what is to come.
> 
> Next update: How do they escape?...DO they escape?


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi readers! I am alive, I promise. Been busy, but it's only been a week since I updated so I'm gonna say I'm still on the safe side of update times. (I've read some very negligent fics before, trust me, it sucks being forced to wait for an update for the better part of a month). But sorry to keep you waiting! We are so close to the end, but we have a few more mysteries to wrap up! AKA How in the world are they both alive? STAY TUNED
> 
> ALSO--CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW THEY RENEWED A SHOW FOR CASSIAN ANDOR AND DIEGO LUNA WILL BE COMING BACK AS A PRE-QUEL SHOW TO ROGUE ONE??? Still processing.

Jyn traced the edge of the hangar with timid but swift steps, sticking to the shadows to evade the guards on standby for further orders from General Dodonna. There were several stationed at the mouth of the hangar, patrolling the skies, but the majority of them hovered near the ships, most likely preparing them for use later.

Her energy was not great at this point, but she decided it could have been much worse if Cassian had not relieved her from running the rest of the way. She'd make it to that ship, so help her Force. Not for herself. For her father. And for Cassian.

But right now she really needed to focus on finding Jecht, because there quite a few de-commissioned cargo ships and she had no clue of knowing which ones even flew at this point, let alone which one Jecht might be on.

"Kriff," she cursed under her breath. But was startled into action when suddenly the guards behind her yelled.

"Captain Andor! You are not authorized to be back—,"

There was blaster fire. Jyn's heart leapt into her throat. She knew Cassian would never fire on members of the rebellion, but if he was opening fire anywhere at all to cause a distraction to cover her, then they would most certainly not grant him the same caution.

It took everything in her not to turn around. Instead, Jyn waited for the remaining guards in front of her to run towards the new commotion before she used the clear to make a break for the first ship she saw with an open door.

If she could just get inside one of them and hot-wire the com system into working, perhaps she could find the station Jecht was on and get better gauge on location and how in the kriff she was supposed to find him.

The ramp was steeper than she remembered, the effort of getting it up nearly sending her to her knees. By the time she was in the cockpit, she was madly out of breath, hands not quite responding in the dire need for oxygen. Of course, it didn't help that the blood that usually helped carry that oxygen to the places of need was now spilling out her stitches.

Jyn wrestled with the knobs, channeling first the main station for these birds. "General Sepsom," she rang. "This is U-Wing 7-4a requesting location under call-number Stardust." The lie came more easily than she anticipated. But she couldn't risk anyone else on this line knowing she was in a cargo ship. And she needed Jecht to have a way to know it was her.

Jyn waited for all of three seconds for a response before she lost faith in the line and decided to knob over to the next station. It was unlikely he was on the mainstream com-station anyway. Far too risky.

Instead, she tried a few dials over, the flash of blaster fire silhouetting over the wings of the ship in front of her making her com as quickly as she could.

"Jecht, dammit!" Jyn was all but crying at this point. "Pick up! Where are you?"

Next station.

"Jecth—coordinates now! Cassian is taking fire. We need your coordinates!"

The link buzzed. Jyn sent a fist slamming into the dashboard with a pained yell.

Until suddenly.

Static. Static. "J—n?!"

More static.

Jyn gasped, the air stunned inside her windpipe. Fingers scrambling and chest heaving, she lunged for the com with both hands, gripping it like it offered her life. "Jecht! Jecht, is that you?"

"Jyn!" It was clearer this time. And it was definitely Jecht.

With an exasperated sigh of relief, Jyn jammed her thumb over the com again. "Jecht. We gotta get out of this hangar. Cassian is our distraction. Tell me you have a way out of here!"

Static. Static.

"Kriff!"

Her hands worked at the knobs furiously. She was almost certain she was close to reinstating the connection when suddenly a noise she'd heard too many times before chilled her blood.

A cry of pain.

Cassian.

"Jecht, dammit!" Jyn yelled. But even as she waited for the com-links to magically connect or not again, she knew what she had to do.

Jyn prayed to whatever Force was with her that this ship was not out of commission enough that it's standard-issue security measures were not stripped as well.

She slid over to the co-pilot seat and immediately began messing with the knobs and switches. Before she flipped the last one, she apologized to whoever was listening.

And then the lights to the ship blared to life. The security blaster lasers steamed in their canons, charging with blanks that she would soon be firing to hopefully draw the guards away from Cassian.

"Jyn! Jyn, I'm here!" Jecht's speckled voice poked out of the comlink at her side.

Just before she opened a fire of blanks, Jyn squeezed again. "Coordinates, now!" She didn't realize she'd thrown the comlink because she was too busy triggering the good-for-nothing blasters of the ship at the wall in case any errant shots did happen to be loaded.

Fortunately or unfortunately, all she was able to do was fire blanks. But it was enough The flashes stopped and there was a heavy rush of footsteps that meant she'd bought herself an audience.

Instead of leaving the way she came, Jyn slammed a fist into a button she'd always wanted to use and waited as the roof hatch popped open.

"Un—ur. Se—tor ei—"

"Coordinates, General Sepsom!" Jyn repeated. "You're cutting out. Coordinates!"

"Unit four! Sector eight!"

That was all she needed. Jyn launched herself to her feet, hurdled the chair and onto the dashboard to use as her step ladder for the overhead exit. She coiled her knees and sprang with all the strength she didn't have. It was only by the miracle of pure adrenaline that she managed to secure the tips of her fingers at the edge of the thatch and use her momentum to swing herself up.

A hot searing pain twisted all down her abdomen and she spit her pain past her teeth in a series of grunts and yells that helped her think past just how knifed up she was at the moment. She would have hell to pay later for this.

The guards were rounding her neighbor ship when she made it to the roof of her own.

"Erso!" A guard recognized her. That was surprising. She was certainly a well known name, but not necessarily a well known face around these parts. Even on Hoth, she tried to keep a low profile, not enjoying the limelight Rogue One had bought her and Cassian.

"We will fire if you don't stop now and put your hands up!"

Like hell.

Jyn slid down the windshield of her ship and pounced off the nose and took off running. She only stumbled a few times as she made her way towards Unit four near the mouth of the hangar.

The charge of a blaster behind her had her weaving her path just in time to be missed by a shot one of the guards had taken at her back.

Assholes.

Suddenly, one of the ships in front of her was moving, inching towards the gate of the hangar where light blazed just beyond it. She didn't want to think about what would happen if their plan actually succeeded and they got out, because that would mean they then had to somehow get past both Imperial and Alliance detection to get out of the field around Yavin IV.

But she couldn't distract herself with that now. She had to get to that ship so Cassian could make it. It was her one sane thought. His name. Her captain.

Jyn broke into a run, not missing how the ramp looked just as steep as the last one as it bounced behind the moving ship.

Jecht, slow down, she thought frantically to herself. If he was already gathering this much speed for her, there was no way Cassian would be able to make it on.

The ramp was drawing nearer, but before she could take advantage of any real progress she made, a blaster shot seared past her calf and Jyn stumbled.

No.

Not again.

She would not be felled and forced to fear for the life of those she'd dragged down this path with her ever again.

Jyn stomached the pain. Dredging up the last of her adrenaline and sprinted for the ramp. A few more shots blazed behind her but none made land-fall this time.

She gave a wild cry and lunged for the ramp, looping her arms around it just as the cargo ship breeched the gates.

"Jecht!" She yelled. "Jecht, slow down! We need to wait for Cassian!"

But either he wasn't listening of he couldn't hear her because suddenly they were gaining too much speed. The ship was cruising at speeds no-one could out-run.

"JECHT!"

Jyn frantically scanned behind her, watching the guards grow smaller as their ship lifted from the ground. This couldn't be happening.

He'd promised. Cassian had promised her and she had promised him and now they were both liars. And she had lost him again.

But…they weren't that high. She could still—

"Jyn—Jyn!" A pair of arms looped under hers and dragged her up the ramp as their ship soared well above safe jumping distance.

Her heart hammered against her lungs. She twisted awkwardly in this new embrace, and what she saw nearly made her cry.

"Cassian, oh my God," she breathed.

He scooted them up the ramp, Jyn offering what little help she could with her knees.

"She's in, Jecht!" Cassian called over his shoulder.

"Aye, Captain!"

The ramp began groaning up behind them, but Cassian didn't let go of her even when the ramp sealed away.

"What the kriff did you think you were doing back there, huh? What did you promise me?" His arms snaked around her with a fierceness she had been craving since she had him sentenced to house-arrest in his med ward.

"I was thinking—you were being shot at and I had—no idea where Jecht was." Jyn buried her nose into his shoulder, letting her fingers tug at his shirt while she gasped for air.

His lips were at her neck, the stubble of his jaw gently scratching at her skin in all the tender ways she'd missed. He lined two kisses there, but the anger and fear had not yet drained from the tension in his muscles.

"Force, Jyn," he ground out. "You'll never learn, will you."

"I'm flattered you think—that battle was ever one you—were going to win," she said between puffs.

"Shh," he hushed her. "Stop wearing both of us out."

"Jerk."

"As soon as you've gotten your breath back, I'm carrying your disobedient arse over to the in-ship medkit and you're letting me treat whatever I see needs treating."

This time, she didn't argue with him. She'd let him have this.

But for now, they contented in just being. In holding. In breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Next update:
> 
> THE ANSWER TO THE QUESTION
> 
> And some well deserved fluff, mutual pining, and a nice little dosage of angst.
> 
> Please review! Have a great rest of your week everyone :)

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews satiate me. Strongly consider leaving one :)


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